


can i get a kiss, and can you make it last forever?

by JustHereForTheFanfic



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: 1940s, Espionage, Eventual Smut, F/F, I promise there's a plot, Slow Burn, World War II, more plot than i planned, ymbryne!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26105995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustHereForTheFanfic/pseuds/JustHereForTheFanfic
Summary: “So is Y/N your girlfriend?” Enoch asked disinterest seeping into his voice.Abe choked on his food, and you would've laughed if it wasn’t for the fact that his question made you sputter into your drink. You recovered first. “No, Abe and I are simply good friends.” You tried not to laugh, really tried, and you think you succeeded.“Do you have any kind of significant other?” Millard asked, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at. Until Abe looked at you expectantly, giving you an amused smile. He caught someone else’s eyes and suddenly was intently eating food.“Not currently.” And you glanced at Miss Peregrine you knew she had glared at Abe. He wouldn’t have looked like a child being fussed at, unless it was her.ORIt’s 1943 and in the height of World War 2, needing a reprieve before being sent on your next assignment, Abe invites you to his home in Cairnholm. The one thing you didn’t anticipate was Alma Peregrine.
Relationships: Alma LeFay Peregrine/Reader
Comments: 59
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I realize that there’s a disparity between when the war started, and historical inaccuracies, but like. It’s not a history paper. Also I read the first book years ago, but forgot most of it, I rewatched the movie a few weeks ago, hence this. For reference the loop is set September 3rd 1940 rather than how it is in the movie, other than that it’s basically the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize that there’s a disparity between when the war started, and historical inaccuracies, but like. It’s not a history paper. Also I read the first book years ago, but forgot most of it, I rewatched the movie a few weeks ago, hence this. For reference the loop is set September 3rd 1940 rather than how it is in the movie, other than that it’s basically the movie.

_August 1st, 1943_

The spray of the ocean combined with the fog made for an impossibly cold and wet morning for the beginning of August. You scooted closer to Abe, using him as an almost shield against the mist and pulled the trench coat tighter around you.

You had known Abe for three months by now, you both knew of the others' peculiarity for two. He had been insisting you visit his loop, for the past one. You had dedicated yourself to memorizing everyone’s names in advance.

“Are you nervous?” Abe asked when you were a quarter from Cairnholm.

“Mostly hungry,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, “but I suppose if you were to take away the hunger there’d be anxiety in its place.”

He tilted his head, a smile appearing, “Fair enough.” His gaze returned towards the front of the ferry, and you glanced around at some of the other passengers.

Your gaze landing on a woman, staring at the two of you. Specifically, Abe. You hoped that it wasn’t because the woman recognized Abe as one of the children who should’ve perished in the bombing. Obviously, Abe was older now twenty-one to be exact. But that didn’t stop you from gently tugging his sleeve and he turned back to look at you questioningly. 

He followed your gaze to land on the woman, who smiled at him shyly, and it was then that you realized it was because she found him attractive. Paranoia for nothing, you mentally scoffed. 

Abe offered a polite smile back, turned back to you and whispered. “Help.”

You stifled a laugh, and he offered a pleading expression. You relented, sighed, “Fine.”

For the sake of the journey the two of you pretended to be married, and no one questioned it. It was easier to travel in one suitcase rather than two and it prevented any undesirables from lurking near either of you for too long. But every so often you would occasionally have to show a display of affection, in this case, taking Abe’s hand and giving the woman a pointed stare. She glanced away quickly; you dropped his hand.

He relaxed, and you glanced at Abe, looking at him objectively he was attractive, dark hair widow's peak, tall with shockingly blue eyes and a strong pronounced jaw with some stubble. His hair that had been combed back had already started to muss with the humidity and journey. _Objectively_ he was attractive. But never in a million years would you personally find him attractive.

The rest of the ferry trip went off without a hitch and was almost painfully uneventful.

Cairnholm was exactly how he described it, sheep outnumbering the people there. The houses, while picturesque, were few. Neither of you lingered in the town, walking past the few shops and down the one road that went from muddy gravel to mud. Abe walked on instinct and memory for which you were thankful as the fog had you turned around completely. The closer you got to the beach, the more the fog let up—the only way you knew you were nearing the beach was that the sound of the waves got louder. 

Abe stopped at the mouth of a cave, paused then turned to look around the two of you, double checking there was no one following. Satisfied he set the suitcase on a nearby rock and opened it. He reached into his coat and unholstered his pistol, set it in the suitcase. You lifted your dress just high enough to do the same to your pearl-handled revolver. Setting it aside Abe’s.

He glanced over, “And the knife?”

You patted the opposite thigh which concealed the knife holstered underneath your dress, “I prefer at least one weapon.”

He rolled his eyes, snapping the suitcase shut and turning back towards the mouth of the cave. His voice was already starting to betray giddiness, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Then you two entered the cave and walked to the very back of it, then back out. Extremely anti-climactic in your opinion, but you understood that was the point.

It was however nice to watch Abe get increasingly and increasingly giddier with each step to his house. You noticed as well that the day was fair, the fog had dispersed, and it was noticeably warmer, not enough to make you sweat just yet, but you found that you no longer needed your coat.

The day was admittedly perfect, as you left the beach. You knew it wasn’t truly the case with the death of one of Abe’s siblings, the appearance of a hollow, and the bomb. That his loop had been hastily created, but you still couldn’t have asked for better weather. With sunshine and clear skies. You followed him through some thickets, then stood next to him in a sudden clearing, looking around. There were topiaries created by Fiona, her peculiarity granted her the ability to grow and control plants; and there was a huge yard of grass so plush that you resisted the urge to lay in it. And then there was the house, beautiful and exactly as Abe had described. Turrets, and windows and ivy crawling up the sides, smoke out of the chimney, wraparound porch, it was dreamlike. “Wow.”

He started towards it, “Come on.” Then started to jog. “I’ll race you!”

You took off after him. It seemed the closer he got to his childhood home, the more he reverted to a child. Not that you minded. 

It was a tie, both of you reaching the first steps of the front porch in mere milliseconds between each other. Slightly winded you still ascended the steps with him and stood shoulder to shoulder with him as he knocked on the door. 

The door was wrenched open and two children threw themselves at him with such force that he fell backwards, he laughed and hugged them back laying on the porch’s floorboards. More children appeared soon enough and smothered him with hugs. You helped Abe up when they had all gotten their fill of tackling him and the children seemed to take notice of you then. 

“Everyone this is Y/N.”

You smiled, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, Abe has talked about you all a ton.”

An adorable six-year old, with curls that reminded you of Shirley Temple suddenly hugged your leg, with surprising force. Obviously, Bronwyn. “Are you going to be staying with us too?”

“I am, Bronwyn.” You said and she grinned.

“Do you want to see how I can lift boulders?”

“Well- “

“Or I could show you my garden.” Fiona said; she had her ever present Dutch braids and pants that had grass stains on the knees.

Then quickly you had multiple children around you asking to go show you each of what you suspected were their current interests. 

“Children, it’s not polite to ambush our guest.” A woman said. 

You looked up to see Miss Peregrine, the loop’s resident ymbryne. So far, Abe's description of everything and everyone had been apt and precise, but his description of Miss Peregrine hadn’t done this woman justice. Pale with high cheekbones, and delicate features, and hair that nearly matched her navy dress. Smoke curled out of the pipe she held and out of her lips, and you innocently tried to keep your gaze on her eyes.

She reminded you of the actresses on the silver screen, Hedy Lamarr or Vivien Leigh, some glamorous, and infinitely elegant woman. All of it was made better by the fact that she was standing in front of you. Until you realized you were staring. “I don’t mind it.” You said, before you lost all ability to make a good impression on her. 

She smiled, and good lord she was unfairly attractive. Abe’s off-hand comments of, _she’s the headmistress, also a peregrine falcon,_ had you unprepared for this. Which in retrospect him hinging on her appearance would’ve been odd, considering she’s his mother figure. But he could’ve at least given you a warning.

You noticed that the children were no longer surrounding you, and she moved forward sticking out her hand. “Alma Peregrine.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook her hand.

A twinge of surprise passed over her face, at your accent, but she never commented on it much like the children. You guessed that Abe had kept or at least Miss Peregrine up to date on the war raging outside the loop.

“Let’s get you two settled.” She said and you followed everyone inside, the entrance was as beautiful as the outside of the house, you followed Abe and Miss Peregrine up the stairs, “You’re five seconds earlier than expected.” She said as you followed a few steps behind. 

Abe grinned, though he was still following behind Miss Peregrine so she couldn’t see. She led you two down the hall and towards a bedroom. Finally, he said as if oblivious, “Oh well maybe your calculations were off just barely.”

She turned lightning quick at the doorway to shoot him a warning glare, he only offered an oblivious shrug. His facade breaking barely under a second before he was smiling.

Miss Peregrine shook her head slowly, a slow small smile gracing her features. “I do hope you’re a better liar when it’s necessary.” Then gestured for you to go into the bedroom.

The room looked perfectly symmetrical, a bed pushed into a corner, nightstand next to it and a dresser against the wall near the foot of the bed. The other side of the room looked exactly like that. You decided to take the left bed.

Upon closer inspection however you noticed the differences, the right side had drawings, it was obvious some of the children had drawn different things, the artistic style differed greatly, along with the fact that most of their names were scrawled in the corners. Meanwhile, the left side of the room lacked those drawings, not that it seemed any less loved, but perhaps more mature? Maybe it belonged to Emma or Olive?

“You’ll be staying here, Miss Y/L/N.” Ms. Peregrine instructed.

“Thank you.” 

Abe walked into the room, and she raised her eyebrows.

“Abe, you’re not sleeping in here.” She said, incredulous.

“I know, but we packed in one suitcase. Easier to travel and less suspicious.” He stated, setting the suitcase on the bed.

You glanced at her, quizzically. She nodded, but didn’t look you in the eyes, “My apologies.” She checked her pocket watch, “I need to check on Emma.” Then left.

Abe at the mention of Emma had tensed the slightest, you noticed. “Are you good?”

“Fine, I simply need to talk with her.” He sighed, then continued to pile your clothes on your bed. Setting your revolver down carefully and with a pointed look to make sure you knew where it was.

“I’d recommend doing that sooner rather than later.” Sitting on the edge of the bed and grabbing your toothbrush that he had forgotten to place in your pile of things. To lighten the mood, you changed the subject, “So what was that with Miss Peregrine not letting you in here?”

He shrugged, “You got me; maybe it’s a new rule?”

When he was done, he closed the suitcase and Bronwyn bounded into the room. Nearly running into Abe.

“Can I show you how many boulders I can pick up?” Bronwyn asked, unfazed.

“Of course.”

Bronwyn showed you how many boulders she could hold at once. Which was three. 

Then Fiona found you, and you supposed you had inadvertently signed up to be her botany expert when you showed interest in her garden. As she showed you a flower, she had no idea what it was, but that she very much liked growing them. 

Then you were invited to a tea party with Claire and Olive, both whose tea party etiquettes were impeccable. You caught sight of Emma and she glared at you before storming off towards the trees with Hugh and Horace following behind with a rope. 

Then it was time for the children’s daily walk, and you followed along, walking alongside Abe. “I haven’t seen you since I introduced you to everyone.” He commented.

“Well Bronwyn wanted to show me how many boulders she could pick up at once, currently her record is three. But she’s aiming for four. Then Fiona wanted to show me her garden, and then I had a tea party with Claire and Olive. And now I’m walking with you.”

“Once the newness wears off, I’m sure the children will stop trying to monopolize your attention. They’re just excited.”

“I know, it’s kind of sweet.” You smiled.

Miss Peregrine, who was a few paces ahead of you, glanced at you and Abe. “Abe, I don’t suppose you would mind leading the walk with Emma?”

“Not at all.” Abe jogged to catch up with Emma, and Miss Peregrine fell into step with you.

You could see why she had asked Abe to lead, because what was originally a brisk strict pace that Emma was setting, it had evened out to something that more resembled a stroll.

Abe was talking to her and she wasn’t glaring at him like she had glared at you so far. “In all his letters he’s spoken very highly of you.” Miss Peregrine said not looking at you but watching her charges a little way further. You looked at her a little startled to talk with her, but quickly hid it. Focusing back on the path in front of you.

“And are you underwhelmed with how mediocre I am?”

She smiled, “On the contrary, I believe his letters didn’t do you justice.”

After a moment, you spoke suddenly, unaware you were speaking until it was too late. “He didn’t do you justice.” She looked over at you, and you looked at the landscape trying to ignore the fact that she was beautiful and openly watching you. “He managed to describe everything perfectly, but I’ll admit I was sorely unprepared for you.” You chuckled.

“And are you underwhelmed?”

You smiled, “On the contrary, I’m a little overwhelmed, but in the best of ways.”

She gave you a pleased smile, and the rest of the walk was spent in comfortable silence between the two of you. 

You were given time to rest after the walk and retired to your room, you suspected that Alma had asked the children to hold off which you appreciated, no matter how much you did enjoy listening to the children, you had been moving all day and were exhausted. 

Dinner was interesting, with both the good and bad connotations of the word fitting the event. It seemed Emma hadn’t lessened her distaste for you since your arrival, every other minute the girl sent you a withering glare. It felt that you were almost being interrogated by the children with the barrage of questions, but Abe answered most of them. Unless they were directed at you specifically. 

Your seat was located between Abe and Alma, and while you had managed to keep yourself distracted from getting flustered around the headmistress, it was proving harder than you thought.

"And you see this mark?" Abe pointed at the small scar on his bicep, the children all murmured and a few gasped. 

"How did you get it?" "Guns?" "A knife?" 

"He ran into one of the bunks and scraped his arm." You laughed. 

He scoffed but nodded. "It's true." 

The children seemed to be slightly disappointed, but you noticed how relieved Miss Peregrine and Emma seemed. 

“I ended up having to patch him up because of it.” You chuckled at the memory. He did too. 

“We didn’t actually work together until a few weeks later, when we were sent to deliver a message and Y/N intercepted another one, getting us promoted.” Abe said, you weren’t sure why he was singing your praises, but it was a little flattering. “Since then we’ve worked together on nearly everything.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor brought you out of your reverie long enough to see Emma stand up, sending you another glare and storming out.

You focused on your plate, guilt taking hold. 

“So, you’re a nurse?” Miss Peregrine asked, after a moment, trying to return the dinner conversation. 

“Yes and no, when I signed up there must’ve been some confusion because I was sent over faster than anyone else, they had me training as a nurse and while my peculiarity makes me an amazing nurse, I’m an even better pilot.”

“What’s your peculiarity?” Hugh asked.

“I’m an ymbryne.”

Which wasn’t what the children were expecting if some of the glances they sent to their headmistress was any indication. You would admit having spent most of your life outside of loops you didn’t seem an ymbryne by any normal standards. Your time keeping was more on the relaxed side, and your mannerisms carefully unlearned to better fit in outside of loops.

“So is Y/N your girlfriend?” Enoch asked disinterest seeping into his voice.

Abe choked on his food, and you would've laughed if it wasn’t for the fact that his question made you sputter into your drink. You recovered first. “No, Abe and I are simply good friends.” You tried not to laugh, really tried, and you think you succeeded.

“Do you have any kind of significant other?” Millard asked, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at. Until Abe looked at you expectantly, giving you an amused smile. He caught someone else’s eyes and suddenly was intently eating food.

“Not currently.” And you glanced at Miss Peregrine you knew she had glared at Abe. He wouldn’t have looked like a child being fussed at, unless it was her. 

“Millard, polite persons do not take supper in the nude.” There was the smallest hint of blush coloring her cheeks. 

He sighed, “Alright.” The chair pushed away from the table and he presumably went to dress.

Dinner fell silent for a moment before the phone rang, Miss Peregrine stood to get it, as she left the room you looked at Abe, he had seemed to bounce back from his scolding. You mouthed, “What was that about?”

He simply smiled, shaking his head.

You felt that maybe it was an inside joke you simply didn’t understand. Dinner continued without a hitch. Soon enough plates were being cleared and you filled the sink with water, soaking the plates. “You have to come watch the movie,” Olive said.

Horace sat in the middle of the living room, holding a piece of eyewear that looked more intricate than a simple monocle. Abe sat next to Emma and you didn’t want to risk further pissing her off, so you stood in the doorway, Miss Peregrine a foot away from you. 

The dream sequence was impressive, you knew that when the screen flickered to life. It showed you and Abe arriving, your race to the front door and the children laughed watching the two of you. Miss Peregrine smiled and glanced pointedly at Abe, he bashfully smiled like a child that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Then it switched to Horace trying on suits, while not riveting you watched it like it was.

Despite your best efforts you still yawned, and Miss Peregrine turned to you, “You’re welcome to retire early, Miss Y/L/N.”

You shook your head and offered what you hoped wasn’t a sleepy smile, “I’m fine Miss Peregrine, truly, and please call me Y/N.”

She nodded, “Only if you’ll call me Alma.” She glanced at the movie and stepped closer to you, “The children’s bedtime is nearing soon anyways, but would you prefer to stay awake until the reset?” 

You nodded, “Sounds lovely.”

She smiled. Your focus returned to the movie.

Horace stirred, and the movie turned off. Children filed out of the house and you followed along.

You were handed a gas mask, the children cheerily put on the masks, you suspected they wanted to show off the Loop’s reset. “Y/N do you mind starting the gramophone?” Miss Peregrine...Alma asked, you did. Run, Run, Rabbit, playing through the brass horn. 

There was a booming sound, almost like thunder if you hadn’t heard it often in the past few months. Soon enough you saw the bomber planes, and your body shivered despite the knowledge that you were perfectly safe. Still you stared at them, throat suddenly dry and watched the bomb whistling downwards along with the beginning of rain. Then everything slowed.

Alma was undoubtedly showing off, but this kind of spectacle deserved to be prideful of. The rain droplets rose, Run, Run, Rabbit played in reverse, the bomb disappeared back into the plane that flew backwards. Sunset, daylight, sunrise, spanned in a few milliseconds casting the sky in a rainbow of colors. Then the time resumed, everyone took off their masks and you stared amazed. “I’ve seen a few resets in my life, but this one takes the cake.” You said.

She smiled, then cleared her throat, turning to her charges. “It’s time for bed." 

There were a few groans, but everyone filed inside. You were elated, this was the first time you would sleep in a real bed in months, cots were comfortable enough for a night or two, but your body ached after weeks on end.

\-----------

Apparently, the room you were staying in was Olive and Bronwyn’s, you realized that when they came in to grab some clothes, and you felt bad for displacing them. But Alma insisted it was fine. That’s another thing she had insisted on, that you call her Alma. The milk glass lamp cast a warm glow on the room, and you read. Knowing that the children were winding down, getting ready for bed. 

There was a knock at the door, you looked up from your book. Already you had changed into a nightgown and were propped up by two pillows, more comfortable than you had been in months. “Come in.”

Alma walked in, you smiled. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Oh nonsense, come sit down.”

She took a seat on the bed across from you, “Enjoying your stay so far?” She asked.

“I am. I have to thank you for allowing me to stay here.”

She waved her hand, “It’s nothing. I’m happy to know that Abe has someone so capable and nice to watch out for him out there.”

You flushed under the compliment, she smirked, and continued. “I’d also like to apologize for the children and my assumption that you two were together.”

This time you couldn’t hide your laugh, “It’s fine. Abe reminds me so much of my younger brother, that it strikes me as hilarious when someone thinks we’re together. But I’m also honored that you seemed to approve of us together.” You burst into another laugh, “Not that that would ever happen.”

She smiled, “At all?”

You bit the side of your cheek to keep from grinning too much, shaking your head. “Nothing against him, but he’s practically family in my eyes.”

Her smile widened, you suspected that she was pleased with the fact that another ymbryne was looking out for Abe and that you already considered him family. It went without saying in the peculiar world that an ymbryne would die before anyone under her care would come under any harm. She then abruptly stood up, as if remembering something else she needed to do. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Alma.”

She looked down, a small smile playing on her lips. “Anytime.” Then she left, and you knew you were smitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't yet have a specific bird in mind for reader, but I might just leave that open ended unless y'all have a really good one or I just vibe with a specific bird ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes have started up again which means sporadic updates whenever I'm procrastinating assignments, this time it was math and an exam for government

The next morning you woke to eat breakfast with everyone, and fell into the routine well, the children were still attempting to monopolize your time, but less so. It gave you time to take a well-deserved bath.  Quick showers with either boiling hot water or freezing cold had become your new normal instead. A bath was a luxury you hadn’t been afforded in months and you planned to soak in the hot tub for as long as possible.

Eventually you finished with the bath and toweled off, changing into some slacks and a button up. Just as you smoothed your collar down there was a knock at the bathroom door, you opened the door to stare at Abe.

“Do you mind letting someone else have a turn?” He teased, you rolled your eyes, but let him through. As you turned to leave, he smiled, “Is there someone you’re trying to impress with that outfit?”

You shot him a glare, whispered only loud enough for him to hear. “Fuck off.”

He laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll like it.” Then shut the door in your face before you could swear at him again.

Downstairs breakfast was just starting with Alma standing next to a sizzling pan that smelled amazing. You stepped into the kitchen, “Is there anything I can help with?”

She glanced over her gaze momentarily paused on you. Then dropped to your slacks, then back up to your button up, and you shoved your hands into your pockets enjoying every second of her obvious staring. She glanced back over at the pan finally, then hummed. “I think I’ve got everything under control, but if you wouldn’t mind setting the table?”

You nodded, “Sure.” Then set to the task.

Breakfast passed and plates were cleared, the children began to find things to get into and you returned to Alma’s side as she walked through the garden. She sighed, “Don’t ask me for another thing to do.”

“Is it so terrible that I want to help?” Bothering her was probably terrible, but you felt that you needed to help in some way to repay her letting you stay here. 

“You’re allowed to relax.” She stated.

You offered a hesitant smile, “I prefer to help, at least one more thing and then I promise I won’t bother you about anything else.”

She stared at you, expression doubtful and you wondered what Abe had told them about you for her to look at you so. All that you could offer was an innocent smile. Finally, she sighed, “I washed some sheets and blankets, so there’s laundry to be put up on the line.”

You grinned, took her hand and squeezed, “Thank you.” Then took off towards the laundry room. 

Once you started that task it put you at ease. It was calming to play with the children and hang sheets up on the clothesline. It felt like home, and that thought alone made you long to simply lay in the grass forever. Because you hadn’t felt like this in months, nearly a year now that you thought about it. You glanced up and focused on your surroundings.

Linen blew against the breeze and the twins were playing a game of tag, running through and around the sheets. Bronwyn joined in when you were nearly finished, and you stopped to appreciate how beautiful this loop was.

It looked like a snapshot from a postcard, absentmindedly you wondered if there was one you could buy and send to your family. The last letter you sent had been nearly a month ago, and despite the differing discussions about each letter the meaning was still the same  _ Yes, I’m still alive. I still miss you. _

There were no postcards, apparently. The closest things to tourist spots were the Priest Hole and the church which held ‘Old Man.’

Both of which did not sell postcards.

After your fruitless search you asked Abe to draw something he loved about the island. He chose a pencil sketch of the beach, it was a simple outline of waves and rocks, but it was perfect.

Which meant all that was left to do was write the letter. You found a spot under the shade under one of the trees, leaned back against the trunk of the tree, the grass plush enough that it was comfortable, quite honestly you could’ve slept there. Instead you focused on the letter and listened to the children’s distant yelling and laughing, and the birds chirping. Idyllic and nearly perfect.

Halfway through drafting the letter a shadow cast over you and you glanced up to look at Alma. She offered a hesitant smile, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You folded the letter, “You didn’t, I was just writing to my family.” You gestured to the spot next to you, “Did you want to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine...The children want a picnic, and I was hoping you would join us.”

“Of course.” You stood, brushed the grass off your pants, and followed Alma to the house.

Inside the house everyone was helping to fill a few picnic baskets, you supposed with the number of children there was a need for more than just one basket. Quickly the packing was done, and everyone set out, you followed behind the children with Abe at your side. “Are picnics normal occurrences?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes, but I think everyone just wanted to show you the island.”

Fine by you, you continued to follow the children as it seemed they already had a destination in mind.

————

You couldn’t help but feel that Abe had planned this, you sat next to Alma on the picnic blanket watching as the children all ran off to play hide and seek. Abe was a little shit, not so subtly standing up and announcing a game of hide and seek. The children agreed almost instantaneously, and here you were a foot from Alma as you watched Abe walk off to look for the children.

Alma didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the children’s departure, she seemed to appreciate the quiet. You dug through the picnic basket, her gaze landed on you, she spoke. “How did you sleep?”

You pulled an orange out from the basket, “Better than I have in the past few months.” Then set into the task of peeling the orange.

She watched your hands let out a hum, and you offered half the orange to Alma. She accepted. “Do you have a favorite fruit?” She peeled apart a slice from the portion, careful not to pierce the fruit with her nails. 

“Peaches are the best fuc-“ You stopped. Alma stared, watched you with a slow smile starting to spread.

“They’re what?”

Heat spread across your face, you mumbled. “They’re really good.”

“But that’s not the word you planned to describe peaches.”

You sighed, shooting Alma a soft glare. “It’s not proper.”

“And you think I care for you to be proper?”

“It’s polite.” You defended, “Some people get uncomfortable when someone swears around them and I assumed-“

“That I’m proper?”

You dared to offer her another glare, “I think you’re just waiting for me to fuck up-“ You shut up just as quickly. 

She grinned, a light blush coloring her face. You suspected even if she had planned for you to say it, she was surprised at the swear regardless.

You sighed, “Happy?”

“Quite.” She was still smiling at you, “Do you often swear?”

You suppressed a smile, “What can I say, I’ve been in the army for too long. I don’t swear around children of course, but-“

“Around Abe?”

You shrugged sheepishly, “If it’s any consolation he occasionally mockingly admonishes me for it. But he never swears, you’ve raised him amazingly.”

She smiled a little brighter at the compliment. Her focus drifting to the fruit, “Abe tells me you two plan to leave the loop tomorrow to search the destroyed military battery for anything useful.”

You nodded, “It’s what we told our superior officers as an excuse to come to Cairnholm.”

“But you will return?” It sounded more like a suggestion rather than a question.

“We should only be gone a few hours and I believe we plan to stay for a day or two more.”

That seemed to reassure her.

She smiled at you, you looked away after a moment, careful not to stare at her. 

Eventually the game finished, the children and Abe returned, and the semi-tension started to ease. You helped to pack up the leftovers from the picnic. Alma resumed her focus back on her charges, though you felt like her gaze was on you once or twice, but you chalked it up to wishful thinking.

Everyone returned home and spread out to finish their chores or play outside, leaving you to mindlessly wander and simply enjoy the loop itself. While wandering you found the house’s library, bookshelves all pushed against the wall surrounding the room. 

The atmosphere of the loop, and the kindness of its inhabitants and the fact that they had a library here, some part of you wondered how Abe could leave it and face the outside world knowing this place existed. But the larger part of you, that was as equally stubborn as Abe knew the answer to it.

As you were looking through the books, the hairs on the back of your neck stood, you turned to face Enoch. He was standing in the doorway, with a bored expression, though you knew by now that was his normal expression. He walked in, “So everyone’s gotten bored of you.”

It wasn't a rude comment, simply an observation, but you were starting to realize that Enoch had the unfortunate ability to make everything sound slightly rude. Instead you chuckled, “Seems like it.”

He glanced at a few of the books with disinterest, you guessed that reading books lost its appeal when there was only a limited amount and infinite time. “I don’t think you’ve met everyone here though.”

“Oh? Who am I missing?” 

“Victor usually stays in his room, but it’d do him good to have a visitor.” He hummed.

Victor was dead, you knew that much. Knew he had died due to a hollow, but still you wanted to see where this went. “Then by all means.”

Enoch led you down the hallway and to a room you had barely spared a glance at, he opened the door then with a flourish gestured inside. “Ladies first.”

You smiled, “Age before beauty.” Knowing the boy was at least older than you by a decade or two outside the loop. To your delight his bored expression cracked, and he smirked rolling his eyes as he went inside first. 

It was the last bit of lightheartedness before you  walked through the doorway and were hit with the sudden feeling that something tragic had happened here. The room was deathly quiet, sterile compared to the rest of the house which was incredibly comfortable. 

There in the center of the room sat the bed, and in it, Victor. Lifeless and unmoving and you stared solemnly. Bronwyn’s older brother, Abe’s family, the reason Abe had left the loop.

“Well?” Enoch asked, gesturing towards Victor’s body.

You looked at Enoch, “Well what?” You knew perfectly well he wanted to get a rise out of you. For you to react, cry, anything. This was Enoch’s way of hazing people, still you stared at him. “This isn’t my first time seeing a dead body.”

He shrugged disappointed, “Do you want to see him talk?”

While you were aware of Enoch’s peculiarity, you weren’t too keen to see it used on a child. 

With one last glance at Victor, you murmured, “Leave him be.” Then left the room, and Enoch.

\----------

Dinner eventually came and passed, exactly how you came to expect it to. The children ate and discussed what they wanted to do tomorrow and recounted the most interesting things that happened today. You listened attentively; felt like Alma glanced at you once or twice, but her eyes were always on anything but you. 

After dinner you insisted you would help with the dishes, as luck would have it the one assigned to wash the dishes that night was Emma. You were determined to be nice, despite how she ignored you.

“I never properly introduced myself.” You held out your hand, Emma begrudgingly shook it. “I’m Y/N.”

“Emma.” She said flatly, started the facet and let the sink begin to fill with water.

“Abe has told me a lot about you.”

She poured some dish soap into the sink, glared at the water, “Funny, he’s barely mentioned a thing to me about you.”

You barely suppressed your smile, because it was obvious the teenager was lovesick and jealous, “You realized that there’s nothing going on between me and Abe, right?”

She startled at that, finally met your eyes, “I never-”

“You’re jealous but have no reason to be. I promise.”

She deflated slightly, “It’s easier said than done.”

It was probably some form of emotional torture for her, to see Abe continuously age each time he returned. And now that he was aging, he had stopped dating Emma. In his own words,  _ because she deserves to move on, and if I didn’t cut it off then one day, I will be twenty-five and still dating a seventeen year old.  _ Still you understood how it must have looked to Emma, Abe bringing home someone who traveled in the same suitcase as him. 

You wanted to assure her that Alma was more your type, but you knew that would be a whole different can of worms. Instead you settled for a hand on her shoulder, comfort, but not anything that might be overstepping boundaries.

Her company was nice after that, your talk turned to interests, and how stupid Abe could be, and you found that you liked the girl. She was stubborn, and kind, and protective of her family, and the two of you got  along like a house on fire.

\------------

Breakfast started and you and Abe were already dressed and prepared to walk out the door, your gun holstered under your dress, the knife holstered inside your boot next to your ankle, you were prepared for a fight, but contently ate oatmeal instead.

Abe didn’t seem at all bothered by the departure today, and neither did the children. The only two who were noticeably quieter were Emma and Alma. It seemed the reminder that Abe would leave eventually was hanging over both of their heads, even if he planned to return in only a few hours.

Plates were cleared, the routine was easy, Abe walked to the porch with you. Alma followed behind, “Promise me, you’ll be careful.” She said, gripping the doorknob with more force than necessary. 

Abe nodded, “I promise.”

She glanced at you expectantly, and you realized she wanted you to promise as well. “I promise.”

She finally sighed, offered both of you a strained smile, “Be back before lunch.”

“We will.” Abe answered, then she closed the door.

The two of you walked and it wasn’t happy nor was it sad, it simply was. One foot in front of another and the reminder that staying in this loop wasn’t an option. Because you had other duties, because while this loop was nice the war raged on outside it.

You entered and left the cave, returning to 1943. Rain was coming down and fog surrounded the two of you, Abe walked as if he had memorized the entire island. As you walked beside him, you realized you were already starting to become familiar with the island as well.

Mud caked your shoes though you were only halfway, Abe was a step or two ahead of you, when he misstepped, he fell an inch or two. His shoe made a squelching sound and suddenly his socked foot came out of his boot. “Fudge.” He hissed.

You steadied him while he grabbed his shoe, “Please for the love of god say fuck next time.”

He laughed, slid the boot back on and double knotted it. “Why should I? I know you’ll say it for me.” 

You sighed, seriously considered just pushing him into the bog, but then reminded yourself that you were only halfway and continued on. 

The forest held more fog than the beach, the path already overgrown from three years of abandonment. As you walked further into the forest you started to recognize where you were. Stopping momentarily at the giant monstrosity shadowed by fog. 

All of the angles were wrong, the house looked as if it had taken a god-sized sledgehammer to the very center of it. It had been bombed and the fact settled into your stomach and your bones. Despite the knowledge that everyone was okay, the grief settled in anyways; rattling inside you until it wrapped around your lungs and you felt you had to look away to breathe.

Abe wouldn’t spare a glance at it, simply cut across the overgrown lawn, and spoke. “What do you think of my family?” 

“Wonderful,” you answered, there was the feeling of someone watching the two of you, you paused, reached for your gun.

He paused too, sensing whatever feeling you had, still he asked. “The loop?” His hand went towards his gun.

In less than a second the two of you had your guns aimed at the tree, you whispered. “Arguably perfect.” A few birds flew from the tree and you both simultaneously relaxed.

He holstered his gun, kicked aimlessly at a branch on the ground, “What do you think of it personally?”

Your eyebrows lifted barely; you tilted your head to the side. “You know my opinions on loops.”

He shrugged it off, “That they’re perfectly fine for all peculiars except you.” His voice taking on that flat monotone way of saying,  _ I’ve heard it all before. _

Your steps were a little heavier as the irritation started to take hold. “That I have a job to do, Abraham.” You corrected, nodding towards the ruins of the house.

He glared at you for using his full name. But he glanced at the house and his gaze softened.

You spoke, “Peculiar or not no one deserves that kind of fate.”

He turned to look at you, “But when does it end?”

You wanted to ask if he meant the war or your moral duty, but he seemed to regret pushing you to talk about it at all, because he turned away and continued down the way.

\-----------

The anti-aircraft artillery base was unsurprisingly destroyed beyond repair. Still you took a scrap of metal as proof that there was nothing salvageable from it. After the entire walk to the artillery base, the two of you spent under five minutes there, before you were already walking back to the loop.

The walk back was quicker than the walk there. Either because you were confident about where you were stepping and heading, or because Abe didn’t try to pry into things you preferred not to talk about, that was up for debate.

Seagull squawking grew louder as you neared the beach, there was a sudden burst of water off in the distance, you felt the vibration from the ground. “How does the ferry boat still operate with all the U-boats around?”

Abe glanced around the beach, double checking that the two of you weren’t being followed. “The ferryman bribes both sides to keep them from aiming at him.”

You answered with an eloquent, “Huh.” Abe started to direct the two of you into the cave, but the U-boat was rising, and you could see people, and part of you wanted to help. But Abe took hold of your shoulder, “We don’t need to bring attention to ourselves now.” He murmured, and he was right. But still there was a part of you that wanted to help.

Instead you turned back to the cave, and entered the loop, not sparing a glance behind you, and feeling all the worse for it.

As soon as you entered the loop, and exited the cave, a few of the children crowded around Abe, already curious.

“What did the house look like?” “Did you see any soldiers?” “Did you shoot anyone?”

He answered the questions glossing over the boring parts, and focusing on the house, and nearly shooting a few seagulls accidentally. By the time you all had reached the house, the children had realized nothing exciting had happened and slunk off to find better things to do.

But not before Fiona reminded Abe that Miss Peregrine was taking care of the hollow and would expect him to tell her everything once she was done.

You left Abe to wait for Miss Peregrine, toeing off your mud caked shoes on the porch, grabbed the knife that was still holstered in the shoes and continued into the house, up into your room.

Finally, you let yourself relax, your shoulders drooping as you opened your suitcase. Set the sheathed knife in the suitcase and sighed.

There was a knock on the door, you paused, “Come in.”

Alma walked in, stared at you for just a moment before grinning. “You’re back.”

Despite yourself, and your aching feet, you smiled back. “I promised, didn’t I?”

She closed the door behind her, “You also promised to be back before lunch.”

You laughed, “I promised to be careful, Abe said we would be back before lunch and well…”

“Forty-five minutes, and twenty-three seconds late.” She hummed and stepped away from the door. 

“In my defense, Abe’s a very slow walker.” You answered blithely. 

You didn’t think it was possible for her smile to get wider, but somehow, she managed. “Was there anything useful?”

“Abe planned to tell you,” you answered, your focus drifting back to the open suitcase with the sheathed knife clearly visible.

“He said you wanted to tell me.” She answered, stepped and now she was in arm’s reach.

You smiled, shook your head, “Of course he did.” Abe probably told Alma that you would explain everything so that he could not so subtly push for you to talk with her.

Alma was still waiting patiently for an answer, you spoke. 

“No, not that we expected to find anything.” You sighed, hitched your dress high enough to unholster your revolver. “How was everything while we were gone?”

You glanced up at Alma, who’s gaze remained locked on your thigh, or your revolver, you weren’t sure. Regardless, you quickly unfasted the holster and pulled the dress back to its normal length. She spoke, “As it always is.”

You nodded, still focused on emptying the revolver of bullets to show that it wasn’t loaded, you didn’t want her to worry about a gun in the house. “I’m glad.”

“Do you plan to leave tomorrow?”

“If you want us to- “ you smiled, glancing over at her. “I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Nonsense.” She said with an air of finality, as if confused by the thought of you intruding.

It made you smile, and you returned your focus back onto the gun, you spoke. “I believe we’ll stay tomorrow and leave the next morning.” Then set the gun on the bed, taking the bullets and placing them in a handkerchief.

She walked closer to look at the gun, “Are you a good shot?”

You glanced towards her, she seemed more relaxed now. “I’m decent enough.”

She picked the revolver up inspecting it.

You asked, “Are you a good shot?”

“It’s been a few years since I’ve used a gun, but I’m skilled with a crossbow.” She answered  plainly, then smiled at you . “Have you ever used a crossbow?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“Would you like to?” She asked, stepping closer to hand you the revolver again.

You took it from her, “Of course. Do you want to shoot my gun?”

Her focus dropped to your gun, “I’ll be out of practice.”

You smiled, grabbing the handkerchief filled with bullets, “I can show you.”

\-----------------------

_ You fucked up. _ It was the only thing you could think of as Alma stood behind you trying to angle your arm around the crossbow how it was supposed to be.

The two of you had walked down to the field where the hollow was continuously killed each day, Alma had killed it earlier this afternoon, but now the two of you faced towards a can you had set a few yards away.

Alma stood behind you, practically no space between the two of you. She placed her hands around you, her head tucked into your shoulder. It was simply so that she could see through the sights and adjust if needed, you reminded yourself. But her breath fanned across your neck, and her hands carefully and gently moved your arms to position the crossbow better.

“There,” she hummed. “Try that darling.”

You tensed, focusing on aim, then pulled the trigger. The bolt shot through with lightning speed, the can toppled easily and you grinned. Turned your head to smile at Alma. Then realized your mistake a moment too late because her mouth was inches from yours and her arms hadn’t dropped from holding you and it felt too much like an embrace.

She pulled away a millisecond later, but it was still too late for you, because your thoughts were filled with you closing that two-inch distance and giving her a lesson in anatomy rather than guns. But you focused back on the can and walked over to place the can right-side up again. Pushed the thoughts from your mind, because this was basically Abe’s mother.

Basically, Abe’s mother, you reminded yourself. Who cared that he seemed more than okay with pushing the two of you to spend time with each other. It was the principle of the matter.

Alma offered a hesitant smile as you returned to the spot, the crossbow was now on the ground a few feet away from the two of you. You offered her your revolver; she took it from you. You moved to stand behind her, positioned her arms better. It was at least easier when you were focused on her stance rather than her, gently you rested your hand on the outside of her left thigh. “Spread your legs a little wider.”

She tensed barely before following the instructions, her cheeks were a touch darker than normal, her voice came out in a clipped tone that just edged flirtatious. “Are you always so forward?”

You moved from the embrace, realizing how that instruction sounded. Then realized she had made an innuendo and you chuckled, despite the heat rushing to your face, “I don’t know, are you always so eager to please?”

The gunshot rang out loud and clear and you ducked instinctively, she turned to look at you, careful to aim the gun towards the ground. She grinned and there was a definite blush coloring her cheeks that wasn’t from makeup. She opened her mouth as if to make another comment, but none came, and she simply laughed.

It was a beautiful sound and it felt like lightning down your spine, because you could’ve stood there forever staring at her, and her staring at you and grinning with this exhilaration and pride. She watched as you glanced around her to see the downed can, she smiled triumphantly when you met her eyes again. And part of you wondered if she had truly needed the practice or simply liked the closeness.

She looked ready to say something else, before she thought better of it and took out her pocket watch. “I should go start dinner in two minutes and thirty-four seconds.”

“Do you want help with it?”

She glanced back up at you and the smile she had was tinged with a melancholy that hadn’t been there before. “No, it’s fine, thank you though.” Then handed you the revolver, picked up the crossbow and left.

You stood there, wondering what you had done wrong. She had been fine, then suddenly looked like she had when you and Abe left this morning. That subdued and strained smile, but you hadn’t said anything that might’ve set her off. Didn’t even mention Abe.

She never returned to flirting, nor did she show that twinge of disappointment, she returned back to normal as if nothing had transpired between you two. Which you supposed was technically true, nothing had happened. You two had simply flirted a bit, then stopped. 

She kept you close though, during the movie, and during reset, because it was obvious that she did like having your attention, but all of the intimacy was simple friendship. You hoped that by the time she would inevitably knock on your door to talk with you she would flirt with you again, or maybe she would keep you at arm’s length. Anything was preferable than this inconsistency.

\----------

Eventually the children turned in, and so did you, you sat propped up on your bed waiting for Alma’s quiet knock. Like clockwork there was the soft two-knocks you had come to expect.

“Come in.”

She walked in, closed the door behind her and smirked at you. You realized at that moment that she was back to flirting with you. It vaguely passed through your mind that she had only flirted with you when the two of you were alone. But the thought was quickly pushed aside in favor of Alma sitting across from you on the bed.

The two of you talked and it almost felt reminiscent of a sleepover, sitting cross-legged on the bed with her and talking about anything came to mind. She didn’t necessarily flirt with you during it, but you noticed her tendency to hold your hand or casually touch you in some way. You felt like a schoolgirl, butterflies and all.

“Who did you study under for your ymbryne duties?” She asked, curious.

She never seemed settled with her knowledge about you, it almost felt as if you were a new language Alma was only recently aware of and was determined to become fluent in. There was something oddly flattering about the way she wanted to know your life.

“Miss Cardinal.” You answered,  "However my schooling was slightly different than a normal ymbryne's."

She glanced up at you curious.

You smiled because she was obviously going to interrogate you relentlessly. "Do you want the long story or the short one?"

She settled in, smiled, "The long one."

"When I was ten my parents prepared to send me to a loop. Of course, then the stock market crashed and sent everything to shit." You chuckled humorlessly, shifted to sit more comfortably. "My parents already had my younger brother and sister along with another one on the way. They insisted I go; I suspect it was because it meant one less mouth to feed."

She took your hand gently, as if to comfort you, but it wasn't a sad story.

"So, I did. For one week. And I was miserable, after a few escapes from the loop an agreement was reached. I would visit the loop for a day or two, get my lessons in. When it came time to leave a few of the other children and I would sneak to the corner store, pack up as much food as we could, and take off. I'd leave the loop and return back to my family with enough food to eat like kings for the night."  You smiled fondly at the memory, recalling the Christmas you had stolen a cake in the loop, running it back to your parents proudly. 

She smiled, took both of your hands, “So you were a regular Robin Hood as a child.”

“I was and still am stupidly stubborn.”

She leaned in barely, her gaze dropping to your lips.  “Unyielding in the face of injustice,” she corrected, “but I find it endearing more than anything.”

You wanted to say something smooth, something to make her laugh, or blush, but you hadn't prepared. Your mind was slowly catching up.

She leaned closer nonetheless, parted her lips, and then came that melancholy again. "Have a nice night." She stood up abruptly.

"You too." You called after her, still a little shell shocked. Alma opened the door, glanced back at you, and smiled.

The door closed behind her and you could’ve sworn she was going to kiss you. Would’ve bet money on it. You sunk lower into bed, thanked God you hadn’t leaned in and met her halfway because that would’ve been awkward.

\-----------

The next morning the children insisted on going to the beach, and you hadn’t packed for swimming, but you found one of Abe’s button-up shirts that he had been gifted from one of the men in his unit. It was a thin white button up with little red stripes. You ‘borrowed’ it now, tying it in a makeshift bikini top, and you changed into shorts. It would work for such short notice. 

Abe insisted the two of you leave for the beach before most of the children, because he wanted to talk with you. You agreed and left as everyone else was changing. Abe walked next to you, “Tell me honestly what do you think of the loop?” He asked. You suspected he was prepping again for a conversation you preferred not to have.

Still you answered, “I love it.”

“And my family?”

You glanced towards him wondering where this was going, “I love them too.”

“And Miss-”

A branch snapped behind the two of you, Abe turned lighting quick. To glare at nothing. He rolled his eyes, “Millard you can’t swim in the nude.”

Millard sighed, “Hugh promised to bring me some swim trunks.”

Abe shrugged, gestured to come along, Millard caught up to the two of you and the three of you walked to the beach. You were thankful that Millard had been caught because it meant Abe wouldn’t ask about Alma right now. There wasn’t a very easy or palatable way to say,  _ Abe, your mother figure is stunning, and I think she might like me, but I definitely like her and if given the chance would propose. _ Would that make you his stepmother figure? You pushed the thought away, kept walking. 

The beach was calming, the constant sound of the waves combined with the relaxing and near spiritual feeling of being near a large body of water always put you at ease. You sat in the sand, close enough to let your feet occasionally get wet, but not so close that you would get soaked. 

Abe was talking with Millard, who already was splashing in the water. 

You paused, then spoke. “Millard do you get sunburned?”

The splashing stopped momentarily, “I do have skin, Y/N.”

Abe shot you a smug smile, you rolled your eyes, threw a clump of sand towards Abe. “It’s a legitimate question, I don’t want him to get sunburned on his entire body.”

Abe dodged the clump of sand and laughed; Millard returned to wading.

There was a crowd of rapidly approaching footsteps, you glanced over to see most of the children running, splashing into the water, Millard yelled, and Hugh threw him swim trunks. Happy shouts rang through the air and you were splashed in the process. 

A shadow stood above you, blocking out the sun momentarily and you glanced up to stare at Alma. The sun haloing around her head, catching in her hair and only further adding to the beauty that was Alma Peregrine. Would it be poor taste to propose after only knowing her for barely three days? Perhaps, but you were not known for your amazing decision-making skills when it involved stunning women.

Alma sat next to you, her gaze focused on the children, your gaze focused on her. She turned to glance at you, you spoke. “You look nice.” Which was an understatement, she had on a black one-piece swimsuit and you thought back to pin-up women and those girly magazines that showcased women with hourglass figures.  You focused back towards the children, determined not to ogle her.

“You look incredible.” She replied, gaze dropping, and she didn’t seem to mind openly staring at you. She smiled when you did.

“Thanks.” Then you stood abruptly, made your way to the water and walked hip-deep into it. It was a reasonable distraction, because you liked Alma, but it wasn’t fair that she kept flirting and then returning as if nothing was amiss.

You distracted yourself by playing a game with the children some type of tag that kept your mind occupied. You tried not to glance at Alma, but you wanted her to look at you. She was helping Claire and the twins build a sandcastle though, and you tried to keep the disappointment at bay. Because this was her job, and you were simply childishly wanting her attention. 

Olive, Hugh, Fiona, Millard and you were standing in a semi-loose circle, preparing for a breath holding competition, Millard offered to judge. But they seemed to be waiting for something you weren’t aware of. You felt something brush against your leg, you jolted slightly. They grinned.

Suddenly something seized your legs and lifted you, Abe stood up, you screamed. He shrugged you off and you fell under the water. 

You sputtered, stood up, set him with a glare. His smile dropped and he started to run earnestly in waist deep water, which was as effective as it sounded. You caught him quickly and tackled him, he went under the water and you turned back to the children and glared at them, though it was undercut by the smirk you had. They realized they were next and took off towards the shore as Abe surfaced behind you.

You took off after the kids, splashing them all the while. By the time you reached the shore you were exhausted, Alma smiled at you. You sat next to her still breathing hard, turned to ask something about how to best get revenge on Abe. But when you looked at her, her gaze was solely focused on the still unsteady rise and fall of your chest, her cheeks scarlet, you glanced down and realized the white button-up was soaked and transparent to the point where you could see your bra under it. And the giddiness shouldn’t have taken hold as much as it did.

When you glanced back towards Alma her focus was on anything but you, you wanted her to look at you again. You wanted that gaze on your entire body and you considered dunking yourself back in the water to cool yourself off. “Are you not going to swim?” You settled on.

“I think the children are fairly exhausted.”

Bronwyn spoke up, “Oh please, Miss Peregrine!” She bounded up to Alma, “Please come swim with us.”

“Claire and the twins will need supervising-”

You spoke up, “I can watch them, go ahead Alma.”

She set you with a look, but you didn’t know what it meant besides,  _ how dare you, _ and then Bronwyn was pulling Alma up and towards the water and Alma was following behind and the rest of the children cheered.

You helped Claire and the twins to build a moat around their sandcastle, every so often glancing up when there was a happy shout to catch Alma and the children having fun. 

Eventually the children did tire out, everyone started to return to the shore. As that transpired you realized your fatal mistake in this, Alma was already stunning as is, but the woman walking towards you soaking wet and giddy was a different type of beauty. Your mind flashed back to those girly magazines, Alma caught your gaze, and smiled. You swallowed, focused determinedly back onto the sandcastle. 

Towels were passed out, Alma sat next to you, her thigh pressed against yours, you didn’t mind the  water that dripped onto your leg, or the fact that she was sitting so close. “Thank you for that.” She hummed. 

You turned to look at her, stared at her eyes, and only her eyes. “Of course, it’s nothing.” Then returned your attention back to the children. Watching as the moat successfully held against an incoming wave. 

Peculiars had a tendency to move quickly in relationships, perhaps because of the lack of intimacy given outside of loops. Or because the small circles of people inside loops that pushed peculiars to build relationships faster than normal people.

Despite knowing Alma for a few days, you got the feeling that she might have set her sights on you romantically. Still you weren’t sure if she simply liked the attention or was actively trying to court you.

You wouldn’t mind if she simply wanted you to sleep with her, you wouldn’t complain at all. But if she actually wanted a relationship with you...that would be harder. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship, the complete opposite if you were honest. You simply didn’t want to hurt someone by not making it home one day.

“Are you alright?” Alma asked, leaned closer to offer part of her towel.

“Fine,” you answered, scooted a touch closer to share the towel, “Why do you ask?”

“You looked like you were a thousand miles away.”

You smiled, “Simply thinking.”

“About?” 

"How nice all of this is."

"The weather and location are perfect." She hummed.

"Well, yes, but I mostly meant the company I have. The children, Abe, you," she glanced at you, but you looked back out to the ocean, quick to continue, "-you all are wonderful."

She didn’t look away, not until you finally met her gaze again, and the way that she was openly staring at you made you certain that she wasn’t looking for you to simply warm her bed. 

\-------------

Like every night since arriving in the loop, Alma came into your room, sat next to you on the bed, and talked.

Most of the discussion was lighthearted until you made a joke about home and she asked. “Why join the war?” She smoothed out the blanket with her hand gently, as if to keep herself busy.

“Are you curious because I’m American, or because I’m a woman?” You teased.

She glanced up at you, “Both.”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, tonight it seemed she wasn’t pulling any punches, though she was quick to look away, quick to add, “You don’t have to-”

“They drafted two of my cousins.” You said, she stopped. You offered a halfhearted smile, though you felt it was more of a wince, and wondered how humor always had a way of becoming truthful. “They drafted two of my cousins and neither are even old enough to drink, but apparently they’re old enough to be sent to their deaths.” You scoffed. “They’re sending children to their deaths and I couldn’t just sit aside and watch it unfold. So, I signed up too, and they sent me over because they thought I was a nurse and…” You swallowed, shrugged, “here I am.”

She seemed to think about her next sentence, it made you worry for a moment that you had said too much, but she simply asked. “Will you write to me?”

You nearly sighed out of relief, “Of course, I can’t promise it’ll be interesting or consistent, but if you want me to I will.”

She smiled, and it was tinged with that sadness, you wanted to ask her why she always looked at you like that. She murmured, “Promise me you’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll try my best.” You answered, it was the best you could do. She still had that melancholy smile, and you knew that she liked affection, and you wanted to express your gratitude for letting you stay here. Quickly, maybe a little too fast you opened your arms and leaned forward, hugging her. Slowly her arms returned the gesture, you squeezed tight, “Thank you for letting me stay here.” Then just as abruptly as you had hugged her, you let go, leaned back and smiled. 

“You’re always welcome here.” She said in a breath, like she couldn’t get the sentence out fast enough.

You nodded, “I hope you realize the next chance I get, I’ll come visit.”

“Promise?”

“You really like promises, don’t you?” You asked, smiled. 

“I trust you’re a woman of your word.” She hummed, gaze softening, “But I also suspect that you deal in enough half-truths that you might need  someone to hold you accountable to one or two things."

“You’re calling me a liar.” You giggled, 

Instantly she flustered, “No!” Then flustered more at how loud she had sounded and whispered, “No, I just mean-”

You rested your hand on her hand, “I’m teasing you.” She sighed, annoyance passing over her face though you knew it was simply for show. “I imagine honesty might do me good for a bit.”

“Not all the time?”

You smiled, “You can have honesty or a good spy, but you can’t have both.”

“You can be honest with Abe,” she glanced down at your interlocked hands, her talons gently scraping down your palm and it was almost ticklish if it wasn’t so soothing, “-with me.”

“And here I thought it was my suave and mysterious ways that drew you in.” You teased, hoped she’d repeat the gesture again. 

To your disappointment she let go of your hand, but a small smile graced her features. “Keep telling yourself that.” She stood from the bed, yawned, “I should let you get to bed; you have a big day ahead of you.”

You smiled though you were sure it was tinged with the same sadness that Alma’s had been, “Oh, don’t remind me.”

She smiled, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And then she left.

\--------------------

At the crack of dawn, you woke. It was hard to stop the habit even on the days you could sleep in. The blankets were wrapped around you and you were still pleasantly warm and in that in-between space where you weren’t necessarily asleep or awake.

Eventually you did get out of bed and finished packing. Still you didn’t leave your room until you heard the distinct sound of the children’s footsteps as they started to get ready for the day. 

Breakfast was quiet, the children were more subdued today, knowing the two of you would be leaving. Abe tried his best to joke around and make up for the quietness, but eventually he gave up and finished his breakfast. 

After the plates were cleared Abe disappeared to finish packing, and you waited outside on the porch, thinking it best to let his family say their goodbyes in private. You stood near the front door; forearms braced against the railing with your lighter in your hand. Reflexively you flicked the lighter on and off, the barely audible click somewhat soothing.

The door opened, you didn’t look up, “Trying to leave without saying goodbye?” Alma asked. 

You cracked a smile, Alma came to stand next to you, pipe smoke surrounded you, it smelled like vanilla. “No, I thought you all would appreciate saying goodbye without me hanging around.” You flicked the lighter open.

Her gaze softened, then traveled to the lighter. “Do you smoke?” She asked, pulling the pipe from her mouth, you watched as a curl of smoke exited her mouth. She grinned, you glanced up from her mouth to realize you had been staring. Quickly you glanced away.

“Sometimes, not very often though. It’s hard to come by cigarettes and I really only want them when I’m stressed.” You flicked the lighter closed again. “The lighter is more of a nervous habit than the smoking, if I’m honest.”

She took another pull from the pipe, blew it out just as easily. “That begs the question, why are you nervous?”

“Would you prefer the most pressing matters, or alphabetically?” You hummed.

She laughed, and it was a pretty sound. “Here, darling.” She held out the pipe to you and you considered taking it from her hand, but part of you wanted to see her flustered. So, you leaned forward, lips closing around the mouthpiece. It tasted like honey and vanilla. Alma’s eyes dropped to your mouth, you smiled, moved back exhaling smoke through your nose.

There was the slightest tremble in her hand, when she moved the pipe back to her own mouth. You thought about how it was as close to a kiss as you would get with the woman. Then you berated yourself for being so damn sentimental. “I’m not excited by the prospect of what the future holds.” Your voice wavered around that answer, damn your traitorous mouth. 

“Then why go?”

“A sense of moral duty, or stubborn stupidity. According to Abe it’s the latter, but I remind him that he made the same choice I did.”

She smiled softly, “It’s both.” Then you caught her gaze, she continued. “Call it what you want, moral obligations, stupidly stubborn, foolishly brave, but you’re offering help when there’s a dire need for it. At the heart of it, I would call it heroic.” 

Abe took that moment to open the door, holding the suitcase, dressed ready for rain and cold weather. “Ready?”

You offered him an unconvincing smile; Alma was still staring at you. “As I’ll ever be.”

\----------------

Alma hugged both of you before you truly left, she hugged Abe first, you looked away to let them have their moment, and then she pulled you into a hug. You hugged back, pretended not to notice how her eyes looked wet when she pulled away. Because Abe’s did too, and you knew this must have been torture.

The walk to the ferry was quiet, Abe wiped at the tears he had been adamant that Miss Peregrine wouldn’t see. You focused on enjoying the weather and the breeze. As the two of you neared the cave the tension started to shift. It began to revert to how things had been before the loop. Both of your guard’s raised, and you entered the cave. 

You exited the cave to be met with a cutting wind that made you shiver, rain was already starting to drizzle, and wasn’t it that just  _ lovely. _ The two of you didn’t say anything until you were waiting for the ferry, and it wasn’t until the two of you were safely on the ferry that Abe made the effort to truly talk.

He craned his neck around to look for his headmistress following along, and when he seemed content she wasn’t there; he turned to grin at you. "So, Miss Peregrine huh?" 

You smacked him on the shoulder, "You could've warned me that she was absolutely beautiful."

"It was worth it to see you speechless." He chuckled and you smacked his arm again. "If it's any consolation. She likes you too."

"Did she say anything to you?"

"Just that you're very brave and sweet and she would very much prefer if I brought you to the loop more often."

A slow smile came across your face, and he nudged your shoulder. "Try not to look like a lovesick fool though."

You smacked his arm harder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! Rip to those who have to deal with conservative family members this holiday season, just know it gets better, I promise.

Your journey ended with your return to the two-room flat you shared with Abe in London. Nothing amiss as you entered, Abe went downstairs to check the mail while you started unpacking.

The first room was the living space, kitchen, dining, and everything except the bed and bathroom. You set the suitcase on the small dining table and started to sort out your belongings from Abe’s. He returned soon enough with a few things in hand, the only notable thing however was the simple postcard Abe threw onto the table.

“We’ve barely walked through the door,” Abe sighed, grabbed his clothes and went to put them up in the bedroom.

You finally looked at the postcard. It was simple, nondescript, a date, a time, and the stamp you had come to expect from your superior officer, Morgan. _Baker Street, seven p.m._ Irony was not lost on you how he seemed to have chosen the same neighborhood of Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. You recalled the hound of Baskerville and made a mental note to find a copy soon.

\---------------

Precisely at seven, the butler opened the door for you and Abe. The two of you had changed into clothes that resembled business casual rather than the muddied and sea-soaked clothes from before. However, stepping into the house you realized the two of you were sorely underdressed. 

Morgan’s secretary stood next to the butler, waiting patiently for your arrival, even after numerous meetings you still didn’t know the woman’s name. Not for lack of trying, she simply always gave out a different name when introducing herself; at least until you finally stopped asking.

She took your hand and led you across the threshold, Abe followed behind. Her hand lingered at the small of your back as she led you down the hall towards a room. Part of you was almost certain that she had an inclination towards women rather than men. It’d explain the touches and the stares, she was rather attractive in that schoolteacher type of way.

But you had already considered yourself taken, because Alma came to mind with every thought. She stopped at the door, moving away from you to nod ahead to the mahogany doors. Abe took a step to stand beside you, before either of you could make a move to open the door someone else did.

Morgan, a tall thin bookish man greeted the two of you welcoming you into the dining room. These meetings didn’t always progress like this more often than not he would call you two down to Grosvenor Square and use one of the US War Department back rooms to give you a report then send you off with barely a glance. Whatever he had planned for the two of you was different.

Again, you thought back to the address and wondered if he chose this place simply for the air of mystery or if he was above such things.

A man stood next to him, someone slightly stockier and older, he greeted you in French. Major Holt an alias no doubt. It seemed strange the things he knew about, technically all on record things. Abe’s time in a ‘refugee’ home, which made him tense momentarily, where you had gone to school, the languages you both spoke. Once the initial strangeness wore off, dinner was a comfortable affair, fortified by several bottles of expensive wine, and the dinner conversation seemed to flow.

The conversation followed into a library, all dark paneled wood, and a few taxidermy animals. Abe and you moved as a pair, always near and on alert. It was why the two of you had continuously been paired until you only worked with each other. In synch even now, with Major Holt seated behind a large oak desk, sipping at whiskey. The two of you took up opposite ends of the room, Abe took the chair across from Major Holt, you sat on a plush couch, while Morgan stood near the bookshelves. Captain Holt cleared his throat, “Morgan tells me the two of you returned from Wales, was there anything notable from that?”

“Nothing, a few birds and a lot of trudging through mud.” You answered, swirled your wine glass and debated on finishing the last few swallows. Thoughts filled of this morning of breakfast with the children and Alma of the way Alma had smiled at you. Had it truly only been this morning?

Holt hummed out an acknowledgement, his gaze dropping to his own glass before he met Abe’s gaze, “I was also told you two have an impressive track record.”

Abe tilted his head in acquiesce, looked barely bothered as he replied, “We simply accomplish our goal, Major.”

Holt lifted his eyebrows, leaned forward just barely, “Would you be able to get into France without getting caught?” His voice had dropped to a whisper, and you realized he was the reason for this meeting and place. For the air of mystery that had seemed to permeate the air since receiving the postcard.

Abe shared a look with you, equal parts warning and intrigue reflected in your expressions. A silent agreement passed between you to see where this went. He returned his focus to Major Holt, “What would you have us do?”

Holt smiled like he knew the two of you were hooked. “We need eyes over there, locations for drop zones, knowledge of how well the French resistance is holding up, there’s very few spies over there that haven’t been captured.”

There was a pause, Abe didn’t bother to hide his look towards you. A silent conversation between the two of you began. He lifted his eyebrows, _thoughts?_

You sent him back a hesitant glance, _it’s dangerous._

_Isn’t that the point._

It was; but still you made the show of rolling your eyes, nonetheless. _Fair enough._

He smirked, turned back to the Major, “So when do we start?”

\--------------------------

The two of you returned to the flat hours later, heads swimming with scenarios, and exhausted beyond belief. In the bedroom there were two sides to the room separated by a rope that had been tied across the room and a quilt that acted as the divider for each side. The blanket wall that you fondly called the Wall of Jericho, was higher than you both, and arguably the thing that kept you from murdering Abe daily.

It was nearing midnight as you moved to your side of the room, and Abe his. “We’re really going, aren’t we?” Abe asked.

You laid on the cot, joints cracking, you closed your eyes and wished you had brought a bed from the loop with you. No matter how illogical and improbable it would have been trying to transport it, it would’ve been better than the cot. “We are.”

There was an audible sigh from across the blanket wall, “We have our orders.” Followed by a pause, “But off record what do you think we should do?”

You had been wondering that since leaving the meeting, “Whatever we can to help peculiars. There’s bound to be a few peculiars who aren’t in loops, there’s bound to be things to do that we can help with.” Your voice sounded more determined and certain than you felt. 

His bed creaked, sheets rustled. “I’ll use one of the loops and go to France. When I’m there, I’ll send out word that we’ll try to help with whatever they need assistance with.”

“I’ll need to let other loops know in case there’s an overflow of children.”

The plan was formed that night, Abe would leave for France in a few days. You would visit the loops closer to London, then would leave for France in little less than a week.

The days went by rather quickly after that, all blurring together in a haze of frantic planning and preparing. Abe had identification papers to get, and you had loop locations to memorize. It wasn’t long before the few days had passed, and both your suitcases were packed. 

You two turned in early, lights out by nine and yet when the air raid sirens started to blare at nearly midnight the two of you were out of bed in an instant. Abe started to pull on a coat, and you slipped on shoes, the two of you made it out the door into the hallway, where others were already dutifully moving.

Children held their mother’s hands, and everyone made their way to the air raid shelter safely. It was a large underground room filled with cots and chairs; the ceiling domed. Abe and you found a quiet corner and sat together, “Great start to our trip, isn’t it?” You murmured.

Abe snorted, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out your copy of the Hound Of Baskerville. “It could be worse.” There was a loud boom from above as if to prove it. He passed you the book, you took it gratefully.

“Did you already have the book in there or did you grab it when the sirens went off?” You asked, already flipping through the pages looking for your place.

He shrugged, “I didn’t want you to read ahead without me.” 

Since getting the copy you had taken to reading it aloud to Abe when the opportunity struck, Abe wasn’t an avid reader, but you were. There was some form of accountability and routine in reading it with him. You shook your head and bit down a laugh, “You do realize that I’ve read it before?”

He glanced at you confused, “You have?” Then sighed as he leaned back against the wall, “You got me hooked on your guilty pleasure.”

“I don’t know that reading counts as a guilty pleasure so much as an enjoyable pastime.” 

He tried to give you a light shove, but you dodged it. “You know what I mean.” You did. Which is why you settled in and began the next chapter. 

Two and a half chapters later you rubbed your eyes, suppressed a yawn as you leaned next to Abe. Ignored the air raid sirens and the occasional distant and almost imperceptible whistle followed a very noticeable boom that you could occasionally feel. Others in the room chattered amongst themselves which helped to quieten the sounds from above.

“Aren’t you going to finish the chapter?” Abe asked, gaze dropping to the book in your hand.

You pushed it into his hands, “Finish it yourself.”

He sighed, “It’s better when you read it.”

“You simply like it because you get to close your eyes and listen.”

A particularly loud whistle came from above, followed by a sudden sound that reminded you of thunder, but louder. You felt the tremor of it against the wall, and the ground, a sprinkle of dust fell from the ceiling. 

Conversations tapered off and a baby started to cry, the mother was quick to try to soothe the infant. You took the book back from Abe, opened it back up to page one hundred and thirteen. “The flush had faded in an instant, and a deathly face was before me. Her dry lips could not speak the 'No' which I saw rather than heard-” 

Abe settled in, and you focused back on the words. It wasn’t a guilty pleasure, because you would feel no guilt from something that kept you sane during this.

The planes continued like that until the early hours of the morning before finally leaving, by then most of the people had nodded off, yourself included. Abe stirred you awake and eventually you returned to the still standing flat. 

Abe left at eight for the loop in Plymouth, you left for Miss Thrush’s loop at nine. The entrance to the loop was in a crypt below St. Paul’s Cathedral. You gave a final glance to your flat, before locking the door and descending the stairs. 

Halfway there you noticed a bombed building, three-fourths of it gone, there were still soot marks along the walls that stood. Delicately you stepped over crushed bricks and continued on your way. 

The entrance to Miss Thrush’s loop was straightforward ignoring the trespassing you had to commit to get there. As you exited the cathedral it was truly only noticeable then that you had entered a loop. Edwardian clothes were the standard in this loop, and you ignored the stares as you made your way to the home. 

Her home was indistinguishable from the rest of the street, and you had to acknowledge that while it was too accessible for your liking, it was also genius to hide in plain sight. You knocked on the door and waited patiently before the door was opened by a disinterested teenager. She was promptly shooed away by a shorter middle-aged woman. 

Miss Thrush welcomed you in, you followed her into the foyer and to the living room, taking a seat on a plush chair. “What brings you here?”

You followed suit, offered a polite smile, while your hands settled in your lap, “As you know the war is still going, and I along with another peculiar person are being sent into the thick of it. I was hoping to let a few ymbrynes know in case we find peculiars along the way so that we have homes readily available for them.”

She nodded, “There’s bound to be a few loops available, mine included.”

"Thank you," you stood.

She watched from her seat, "Would you like some tea before you go?" You opened your mouth to decline, and she nodded, "I insist, here sit down, relax for a moment." Her voice had that gentle reprimanding of a mother reminding someone to remember their manners.

You sat back down, it occurred to you that your etiquette for tea could use some work, or Miss Thrush's etiquette for classified rendezvous meetings could. Still you wouldn't voice that, and managed through pleasant conversation with her, as well as meeting her charges, and finally after lunch you politely excused yourself.

\-----------

Your next stop was Derby, Miss Avocet’s loop was more or less an epicenter when it came to peculiar communication mostly due to the ymbryne apprentices who would travel to other loops. 

The safest route there would be by train, you prayed the route hadn’t been destroyed again, already reconstruction for a few different routes were under way and it would take longer than normal to reach a few of the loops.

A train left at 3:30 to Derby, by then you could hopefully arrive around 7:45 accounting for the time it would take to enter the loop and get to Miss Avocet’s residence. You boarded the train and found a pleasant window seat, wondering all the while whether or not there was room for you to stay the night, and if you should grab dinner before barging in. 

After half an hour of contemplating you decided to wait on dinner and if nothing else you could find a comfortable rooftop and sleep in bird form. As for dinner you weren’t sure if it would be impolite to not eat dinner with them and decided to err on the side of waiting. With that settled you opened you searched your luggage for the book.

After an unsuccessful search you realized Abe had taken it with him. He hadn’t been joking about you reading ahead without him, you crossed your arms and sighed. The rest of the train ride consisted of you staring out the window and enjoying the scenery as they passed by, while overthinking how easily things could go to shit for you or Abe.

By the time you arrived in Derby you were already paranoid and waiting for a catastrophe, but of course it never came. You found the loop entrance after getting turned around a bit, and then you were standing in Derby, in 1867. Sometime in July, the fourteenth if you had to guess. 

Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting’s home was easy to find, or perhaps Abe had given you better directions than normal. Nonetheless, you found the large brick house and knocked on the door. A few seconds passed before a girl a few years younger than you answered, she looked like to be a ymbryne in training. “May I help you?”

“Yes, I was hoping to talk with either Miss Avocet or Miss Bunting if possible.” 

She gave you a once over, and you stood there hoping that her scrutiny wasn’t a bad thing. She deliberated, let you stand in the foyer and said, “Wait here, it’ll be at least five minutes.” Then disappeared down one of the halls. 

You waited patiently, and exactly five minutes later Miss Avocet appeared, she looked elegant and like someone you would never want to piss off. “I assume you’re the guest I was told of.” 

“I am.” And without much of a segue, introductions were made, Miss Avocet directed you towards the garden to talk and you caught sight of other ymbrynes as you walked with her. “Do you know much on how the loops in France are faring?” 

“Not quite, I know Miss Sandgrouse told me there have been more than a few loops that have been...pillaged, for lack of a better word.” Her voice lowered at the end.

You nodded, “Of course, Abe and I suspected as much.”

“Abe?” She glanced at you, with a light to her eyes, “As in Abraham Portman?”

You replied hesitantly, “Yes?”

Her face broke into a smile, “Oh how wonderful! Tell me dear have you visited Miss Peregrine’s loop as of yet?”

“I have, just a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it.”

“And how is Alma?”

You glanced away, a pleasant smile tugging at your mouth at the thought of Alma. “Fine—wonderful, the children are too.” You spoke quickly, “The loop is beautiful as well.” You glanced back at Miss Avocet.

She watched you with a small knowing smile, for a moment you worried that she had managed to catch onto the schoolyard crush. But she simply said, “you know Alma was the youngest student I had ever taken on? She showed remarkable talent at such a young age.” 

Alma Peregrine didn’t seem the type to be average even in the world of peculiars. “That doesn’t surprise me, she’s remarkable in anything she does.” You said, that earned a pleased hum from Miss Avocet. 

She paused in the garden near the daisies, “I shall visit her soon.” Then looked at you, gaze already refocusing on the task at hand. “If I hear anything, I will of course try to contact you, but I’m afraid things have been rather quiet lately. I will send out word to others.” She glanced back at the house, “Have you already eaten?”

“No, but-”

“We’ll have supper at eight fifteen, lights out by nine thirty, I’ll have one of the girls show you to your room.” She said without pause, and you knew better than to argue. 

You simply replied, “Thank you.” 

She gave a curt nod and left towards the direction of the house, you trailed behind at a slower pace. Dinner was served and you ate trying not to feel as out of place as you did. The feeling lessened when you caught sight of a familiar face. 

Beatrice had dark tightly coiled hair that came just below her shoulders, with a smile that could power entire towns. She had been a fellow charge and ymbryne you recalled from Miss Cardinal’s loop. As dinner finished and plates were cleared you approached her. “Miss Starling, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She turned to you and recognition crossed her face, she laughed and hugged you. “What’re you doing here?”

“Working, unfortunately.”

“In a loop? I’d have thought someone would have to drag you kicking and screaming into one again.”

Of course, she remembered that, you shrugged, “Times have changed.”

“They certainly have.” She hummed, “What brings you to this loop in particular?”

“I needed to discuss with one of the headmistresses on how best to assist peculiars in France, but unfortunately things have been rather quiet.” You followed her towards the living room. “And you?”

“I came to see how ymbrynes were handling their loops here, a large portion of the ymbrynes back in the states are worried that we might have to start implementing more of those same precautions.” 

When it came to ymbryne duties, you were aware of what they entailed, but always felt separated from it by a few degrees. Now was no different, but you wouldn’t let it bother you. “How are things there?”

“Half are convinced that it’s not a threat to us, and the other half see it as it is; a threat to our way of life, and the safety of peculiars.” 

You wanted to keep the discussion going and ask how Miss Cardinal was, if she knew of any loops that had been destroyed, anything. But your body had other plans and you yawned. She spoke, “I’ll let you turn in, will you stay for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

She smiled, “No, you don’t. But it’s simply propriety.”

You chuckled though it came out as more of an exhale, “When is breakfast?”

“Seven-thirty.”

\---------------------------

The morning came far too quickly for your liking, you ate breakfast, said your goodbyes and thank yous and left. By the time you reached Miss Nightjar’s loop you felt like a broken record, repeating, _loops in France, yes, France, have you heard anything? Oh, it’s fine, but will you at least keep an ear out?_

Like the rest of the loops you had visited she kept you longer than strictly necessary and stayed for a duration that was probably considered polite. You suspected that they simply liked having visitors and you had yet to find a polite way of saying you had to leave for an extremely dangerous mission. 

As you left Miss Nightjar’s loop, you realized you could have mentioned staying on schedule and it would have cut down the duration of most of the trips by half. None of the ymbrynes would object to you staying on schedule and being punctual to the next loop. But you realized it too little too late, because the last loop you planned to visit you would stay for as long as possible.

The last loop on your checklist was unarguably the one you had looked forward the most to visiting. Time passed unbearably slowly along the ferry ride until the cliffs of Cairnholm cut through the fog, you swallowed down the excitement, and the nervousness. 

In the fog and rain, you got turned around a bit, and nearly terrified yourself when thinking about the hellhound from Doyle’s book, which certainly didn’t help when you heard a distant bark from no doubt one of the sheep herder dogs. You thankfully didn’t scream or run, but if you walked faster than your normal pace it was simply because you didn’t want to be late. Definitely not because you scared yourself with an overactive imagination.

As you neared the cave you double, and triple checked that you weren’t being tailed before slipping into the loop. It was nearing four when you set foot on the stairs of the porch. 

Weary, but relieved, you softly knocked on the door. There were a few silent painstaking moments before the door swung open, Alma with a confused glare stared at you for barely a second. As recognition crossed her face her expression shifted into a grin. “Y/N, you’re here.” 

She glanced for Abe, and before her mind could jump to conclusions you spoke. “Abe’s fine, he’s on his way to France as we speak.” 

She nodded, then focused back on you, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I promised I’d be back at the first chance, didn’t I?” You teased, then turned serious, “I’m sorry it’s such short notice though.”

“Don’t apologize, come inside.” She opened the door wider, sidestepped so you could enter.

“I did technically come on business,” You said as she directed you into the parlor, closing the parlor door behind you. “I wanted to give you updates on everything.”

She lit her pipe, then moved to sit on the desk. You continued, “He plans to stop at the nearest loop in France and get as much information as he can. We want to help if possible. I’m supposed to arrive in four days and help.”

She held your gaze, but the sheer intensity of her expression forced you to look away. A curl of smoke drifted up; you followed the movement as it reached the ceiling. “And after that?” Her voice curt, but you could sense the concern radiating off her, you knew she was trying to be supportive.

“We’ll do our best to find proper drop zones for the SOE and gather any information we can.”

She didn’t seem excited by the prospect of Abe going through occupied France, but you weren’t either. Still she nodded, “Thank you for keeping me updated.” She then stood up, “Would you like dinner?”

“Please.” 

Alma opened the door to see a few of the kids scatter as if they hadn’t been openly eavesdropping. You chuckled, and Alma simply gave you a look of exasperated amusement.

The children remained willfully ignorant, acting surprised that you had arrived. As you walked from the parlor to the kitchen, you were hugged and thankfully not tackled.

Of course, they asked about Abe, but you told him he was visiting another loop to help. Most of the kids dispersed, but a few remained determined and hugging tightly.

It was a little difficult rounding the corner to the kitchen, but you managed. By the time you reached the kitchen Alma was already beginning the monumental task of peeling a potato carried in by Bronwyn. The potato itself looked at least forty pounds, and as tall as Bronwyn herself. 

Alma glanced over at you still surrounded by some of the children, you asked. “Can I help?”

Hugh piped up, “But I was hoping you could play ball with me and Millard.”

“Millard and I,” Alma corrected, then focused on you, shooing you away with the peeler in her hand. “Go relax darling, I’ve got this under control.”

You grinned and nodded, following Hugh out to the yard. It was easy to fall into the distraction of the game for a round or two, a few more of the children joining in until the afternoon light dimmed and became evening. 

The porch light turned on and Alma came out to call that dinner was ready. You let the children bound up the steps and walked calmly. Alma waited for you smiling as you walked by. “Have fun?”

Your breathing was uneven, and there were flyaway hairs haloing your head, but you were grinning. “I did, but I can’t help think I would’ve enjoyed it more if you had played.”

That earned an exasperated but amused smile, “So you could’ve shown off?” She teased.

  
  


“Am I that transparent?” 

She laughed, and the two of you went inside and maybe it was the exhilaration of playing with the children, or flirting with Alma, or the home cooked meal that sat hot and ready on the dining room table. But you were sure you could stay here forever in this moment. 

Perhaps create a tiny loop that lasted a few seconds where you were warm, and cared for, and happy. But you simply sat down and let the moment pass knowing that there’d be other moments like it. 

Dinner passed and there were no awkward conversations, there were lulls when the children ate, but you listened and ate and savored the happiness.

After dinner was finished plates were cleared and washed, Horace prepared for his dream sequence and everyone settled in. You found a spot on the armchair and settled in, giving the room a quick glance over to find Alma standing in the doorway waiting for the show to begin. She was focused on her pocket watch with a small frown, before she could catch you staring, you glanced away.

The lights dimmed and the projection lit up, it showed Horace trying on suits, you settled in and enjoyed it. It lasted a few minutes lulling most of you into a calming unfocused state, when the screen flickered to a different scene barely anyone made a sound for a moment. 

The scene unfolded on a street that didn’t look familiar, a furious man pounding against a door, yelling in a different language. Though it was hard to tell the language since he was yelling far too loud and fast for words to be understandable. Suddenly the door swung open and you stood there, unimpressed.

Alma and you glanced at each other from across the room, then your focus returned back to the screen. 

Again the screen shifted and now it was nighttime on the street, a different man stood across the street from the house, calmly smoking a cigarette, he took a pull, the end lighting up and you caught the unmistakable lightness to his eyes. He calmly dropped the cigarette onto the sidewalk, crushed it underfoot and his gaze turned to the house. The last thing you saw was the man’s eyes that glowed eerily white in the night, before the projection stopped and lights turned on. 

You blinked a few times trying to wrap your head around what you saw, before you focused on everyone else. A few of the children were staring at you before Alma spoke, “Children it’s time to get ready for bed.”

They didn’t try to argue, most happy to return to some semblance of normal, though that didn’t keep from all of them shooting you at least one concerned glance before leaving the room. Finally, you were left with Alma, you knew she would need to calm some of the children tonight, and you weren’t one to overstay your welcome. 

You stood, “Well, I think that’s my cue to leave.”

Alma’s brow furrowed, “You’re not staying?”

“You didn’t know I was coming until I showed up on your doorstep.” You said as if that answered it all. 

She glanced back at where the sequence had just been playing, sighed and focused on you again. “There’s no other places on the island to stay, and even if there was. You'd still stay here regardless. I want to know that you're safe." She said resolutely and you knew there was no arguing with her.

You could see the similarities between Miss Avocet and Alma now that you thought about it. "Okay." Slowly you closed the distance between the two of you till you stood a foot or two away. "But you know I will be perfectly safe, so will Abe."

Her posture relaxed slightly, but she still stared at you. The sheer intensity of her focus made you want to look away, or say something foolish, or leave. An unbearably long time passed where you simply stared at each other, before she said quietly. “Horace’s predictions don’t always come true.” And it sounded like she was trying to remind herself of it as much as comfort you.

Another beat passed, and she glanced at her pocket watch, mentioned the reset and disappeared to presumably take care of it. You found yourself taking a seat at the kitchen table, Emma walked in not long after, “How are you?” She asked, hesitantly seemingly prepared for an honest answer or a lie. 

You settled for the truth, “Not terrible, but not unaware that I might be hanging on by a string soon.” 

Emma smiled slightly, you guessed you had made the right choice by being honest. She didn’t hesitate to take the seat next to you, “How’s Miss Peregrine taking it?”

That earned a shrug from you, “She’s insisted I stay the night, and seems to be taking it in stride.”

“Don’t let that hurt you, she cares for you.”

You nodded, and comfortable silence swallowed the conversation and rather than letting your thoughts drift you pulled out your book and read. Emma seemed content to let her thoughts drift and neither of you spoke, but it was comforting to have someone in the silence. 

In said silence you tried to wrap your mind around the prediction, the house didn’t look familiar nor did the street. Nothing about the dream had seemed familiar save for your face on the screen, and you desperately tried to focus on the paragraph to no avail.

The rumble of planes overhead began not long after. You knew the bomber planes were part of the reset, logically you understood it, and every night you had stayed here, it hadn’t freaked you out. But tonight, was different. For some reason, your hands shook, and you tried desperately to read your book, but got stuck reading the same paragraph.

Emma noticed and set her hand on your forearm, “Y/N.” She said calmly but you could make out the note of distress. 

Abe’s voice came to mind, _Inhale. Hold. Exhale._

She moved closer, and you still stared ahead at the book unfocused. “Focus on me.” She said calmly, but she sounded drowned out against the planes as they thundered above.

_Inhale. Hold. Exhale._

Frames rattled on the walls, you heard the unmistakable whistle and prepared for the inevitable boom. She grabbed and held your hands, “It’s safe here.”

_Inhale. Hold. Exhale._

The loop reset and there were no longer any sounds except for your pounding heart and slowly steadying breathing. Slowly the fog around your mind lifted, but Emma didn’t move. Only Abe had only seen you panic like this and now Emma, both seemed to know what to do, even if you didn’t. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, your focus returning back to the room and Emma.

You looked at her, she was still watching you closely. “Better now.”

The front door opened and closed, footsteps approached, Alma paused in the doorway. Emma let go of your hands quickly, moved to push her chair in and made a comment about getting ready for bed before she left. Left you to deal with Alma by yourself, _how dare she._

“Is everything okay?” Alma asked before you could dwell too long on Emma’s departure, concern etched into her face, and you smiled halfheartedly.

“Fine.” 

Which earned a glower from Alma, “You certainly aren’t.” Then moved a few steps into the room, “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

Which made the halfhearted smile ease into a full genuine smile, you stood, met her halfway. “I promise I’m okay, I might be tired and more than a little anxious, but-” you rested your hand on her wrist, emphasizing but careful to not sound condescending. _“I’m fine.”_

Which eased the sulkiness in her expression to concern again, she took your hand, and looked to be contemplating things. While you wanted to stay here with Alma and wait until she figured out whatever she would say to you, if she said something to you. You hadn’t lied about being tired. 

“If I’m staying the night what bed will I take?” You asked.

“Abe has his own room; you can use that.” She supplied, then paused, her gaze dropping to your interlocked hands. “What time do you plan to leave tomorrow?” Her voice took an unaffected tone, but the words still hung in the air. 

“Soon after I wake up.”

Which wasn’t what she wanted to hear _at all,_ she glanced up at you no doubt to make a comment on how punctuality was important only to see you grinning at her. She huffed, “You’re infuriating sometimes.”

You bit down another comment that would no doubt make her roll her eyes at you, somewhere above you heard footsteps and Alma checked her pocket watch. “The children will need to be tucked in, in approximately five minutes and forty-eight seconds.”

Despite the want to help you thought it best not to overstep, you let go of her hand, “I should turn in too then.”

\-------------------

You fell asleep alarmingly fast; Alma didn’t knock on your door this time; or if she did you didn’t hear as you were sound asleep before most of the children had finished brushing their teeth. There were no dreams, or nightmares. For which you were thankful.

However, sometime in the middle of the night your bladder woke you up, quietly and begrudgingly you got out of bed. When exiting the bathroom, you flicked off the light and began the quiet return to your bed. Barely a few steps away from your door you heard a whimper, then the small frantic footsteps of a child barely awake, Claire and Bronwyn’s bedroom door swung open, Bronwyn looked half asleep and distressed. 

She made it two steps into the hallway before she froze petrified, you realized that she saw your shadowy figure. You leaned down, said in your best soothing voice, “It’s just me, it’s okay.”

“Y/N,” Her voice was still drowsy, but all you could hear was the distress. Her face crumpled and you picked her up in an instant, she buried her face in the crook of your neck and fisted her hands in the fabric of your nightgown. There were mumbled words, but you only caught _Victor._

You rubbed her back in soothing circles as you murmured that _things were okay, it was just a nightmare,_ it wasn’t even a minute before she was asleep again. But still you stood there and tried to wrap your head and heart around the fact that even half asleep and scared Bronwyn trusted you enough to have comforted her. 

A floorboard creaked behind you, your body was on edge and yet you turned slowly. Alma stood there with rollers in her hair and a nightgown, but neither of those things caught you off guard as much as her expression did. 

She stared at you almost pained, before her gaze flickered to Bronwyn and concern replaced the expression. “How is she?”

“Asleep thankfully.” You murmured.

Alma nodded and moved closer to smooth her hand over Bronwyn’s back. “Her nightmares have gotten more sporadic lately, I had hoped that-” She tapered off and you could guess what had set Bronwyn off tonight, Horace's prediction was still lingering in the back of your mind. You also suspected Alma knew what Bronwyn’s nightmare had been about.

You shifted Bronwyn in your arms, “She was half asleep when I saw her, she probably won’t even remember what happened in the morning.” You hoped it would bring Alma some comfort. 

Her mouth curved into a gentle smile, and you turned your focus away from her. Your crush was something that could be excused in the day, when you could deflect or distract from Alma. But now when it was dark and quiet and the only thing to focus on was Alma it was impossible. “Where do you want me to put her?” You asked quietly.

The smile dimmed momentarily, and she seemed to realize that the two of you couldn’t stand in the hallway talking the entire night. Not that you would object to it, but you were sure that Bronwyn would get too heavy to carry eventually. “My bedroom,” she gestured to the door at the end of the hall. 

You followed quietly behind her, she opened the door and you made your way through. Alma’s room smelled like pipe tobacco and perfume, and it made your heartbeat a little faster. She pulled the covers back from the bed and carefully you slid Bronwyn onto one side of the bed, only to realize Bronwyn’s death grip on your nightgown was still holding fast. 

Your heart clenched and you smiled softly, gently uncurling her fingers until you could pull away. Alma already sat on her side of the bed, you pulled up the covers for Bronwyn. You were startled to realize that Alma was staring at you when you finally met her gaze, she smiled. “Thank you.”

You nodded, mouth too dry to murmur out an _of course,_ or _it’s nothing._ “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” 

You felt her eyes on you until you closed her bedroom door, you returned to your room, thankfully too tired to overthink anything. Your bed was still warm when you curled up, and it was barely a minute before you were already drifting off.

\----------

You were up before the sun was, it took a few minutes to convince yourself to get up. By the time you did, the sky was turning a lighter blue, you could see a faint red on the horizon, and you wished the passage of time could just stop for a second or two.

Instead of sitting there quiet and lonely, you crept down the stairs. Tried to quietly use the kettle to warm up some tea, then with your steaming cup, ventured out to the front porch. It was light now; the sun still hadn’t risen but it wouldn’t be long. 

The yard was fresh with morning dew still there, insects buzzing, and it was the perfect place to consider what would have to happen afterwards. With a careful sip of the tea your thoughts wandered. There was the last stop in Plymouth so you could board a boat for Miss Sandgrouse’s loop, from there the actual hard part would begin.

It was relaxing and quiet or was until the door opened and Alma stepped out. You straightened up, relaxing when she came to stand next to you, “I’m sorry, Alma. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t, I was already awake.” 

“How is Bronwyn?” You asked, turning your focus to Alma. Her hair was already put in its usual updo, but she still had her nightgown on. It made you smile and wonder if she had fixed it for you.

“Asleep, thankfully.” She sighed, expression betraying the worry and concern. “Thank you for your help.”

“It was nothing, I didn’t expect her to go to me so willingly.” Your heart clenched at the memory of Bronwyn’s expression and how easily she had trusted you to comfort her. “I didn’t think she’d trust me that much.”

Alma watched you, seemed to understand what you were trying to convey. “You seem to underestimate your importance in our lives.” She said amused, but gentle.

You shook your head, smiled. Almost didn’t catch the use of _our,_ but the realization caught up with you. Your heart skipped like a record, you glanced down sheepishly. 

Her hand found the small of your back, she moved a touch closer till the entirety of her side was against yours. She watched you amused, her other hand tracing around your wrist delicately. You swallowed, attempting to string together an intelligent sentence. “I didn’t realize how easily the children take to people.”

“They don’t always, but I find it hard to believe that anyone could meet you and not be taken by you.” Her voice still had that light airy amusement but undercut by the firm honesty. Your breath let out in a sudden exhale.

Alma seemed to be in favor of saying whatever would shut you up today, with an embarrassingly long several seconds of silence. Finally, you managed to turn your head to mutter, “The feeling is mutual.”

Her smile widened, and she blushed prettily. Her gaze finally dropped from you, to land on your cup, but she didn’t say anything, nor did she dignify your response with a reply. You offered her your cup of tea, “I expected you to have raided the coffee.” She finally murmured but took the cup anyway.

A thought passed through your mind too quickly to question whether or not it was wise, “I like my coffee, like I like my men.” You smiled, watched her for any sign of disappointment. 

She offered a polite if strained smile, focused on the cup of tea. “And how do you like your coffee?” She asked flatly, before taking a sip.

“I don’t.” You said, and she sputtered into the mug, making you laugh. She was blushing and laughing, and it was a beautiful sound. “Now hot chocolate on the other hand, I could drink every day.”

She hummed, fingers gently tracing the rim of the mug, “And your preference on women?” There was a hopeful note in her voice that you wouldn’t allow yourself to overthink.

You grinned, looking out to the expanse of the yard, voice a little softer, but no less prideful. “Much like my stance on hot chocolate.”

There was a moment of pause, where she seemed to take in the information. You held your breath for her next question knowing there would undoubtedly be a next question. However she surprised you by asking, “How have you been handling all of this?” 

The surprise passed after a moment, “I won’t lie and say that I’m not worried, but-” you shrugged, “I imagine if it’s my time there’s very little I can do to stop it.”

It was quieter than before, save for the birds chirping; “Don’t say that.” Her hand wrapped around your wrist, “Promise me if you see that street you’ll turn around and come back here.”

“Alma I can’t-”

“Promise. Me.” She repeated, her voice firm and unyielding.

“I promise that if I see that house, I will take Abe and get as far away as possible.” You answered, turning your head to look at Alma. Her gaze was piercing, intense in a way that left you staring back. “I can’t promise to come back here at the first sign of danger,” you said gentler.

She didn’t acknowledge it verbally, her gaze eased into something less intense, but no less observant, “What happened last night in the dining room?”

It took you a moment before remembering what she was referring to, you answered easily, “The sound of the bomber planes made me anxious, I’m used to hearing the aftermath of it.”

Her grip lessened, thumb absentmindedly running over your pulse. “You’re perfectly safe in the loop, it’s my responsibility to take care of all peculiars here.” She said in a voice that you knew was solely reserved for comforting.

“I’m not a child,” you murmured, jokingly. Though you wanted to say it earnestly, you knew the words would have come out petulant. So jokingly it was. 

Alma smiled, “I’m well aware, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to care for you, responsibility or not.”

In a moment of thoughtlessness, you spoke, before you could truly consider your words. “But who takes care of you?” It was too soft, too sappy, with too many feelings to unpack for someone who planned to leave so soon.

You didn’t dare glance at her after such a question, the tension could be cut with a knife, and you knew you had overstepped. “I just mean-” You meant what you said, wouldn’t take it back because it was the truth. “I would, Abe would.” Finally risked a glance at her and she was watching you. “You’re not alone in any of this.” Her gaze softened, again the sheer intensity of her focus made you look away. Back out to the expanse of yard, and the reminder that there was a journey ahead of you. “I should leave soon.”

“Not before breakfast.” She replied quickly, her focus turning to the yard. “The children will want to say goodbye to you.” She commented. Focus turned back to you with warning, to do as you're told. 

You smiled, “Of course.”

\----------------

You dressed and left your room to find most of the children already heading down for breakfast. Claire tugged on your pant leg, which was her nonverbal way of saying pick me up please. Which you did and carried her down following the stream of children. 

The table was already being set by Hugh and Horace; you set Claire down in her chair and she smiled up at you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

Alma watched the interaction, but she still wouldn’t meet your eyes when you glanced at her. As breakfast began, and plates of food were passed you decided that you needed to be on her good side before you left. So, you resorted to less than fair methods. 

“You know Alma I never quite caught if you prefer hot chocolate or coffee?” It was an innocent question, but she nearly dropped the plate she was passing to Enoch and that caught the children’s attention.

“Hot chocolate.” She said matter-of-factly, but there was a subtle blush creeping up her neck.

Olive spoke up, “But Miss P, you usually drink tea in the morning.”

The subtle blush was now in full force and you hadn’t seen her quite this flustered, “Yes well I- “

“I wanted to get Alma a gift for letting me stay here with you all, I’m starting to suspect that she simply wants to share it with you.” You answered easily, wiping the corners of your mouth, a smile curling your lips. You glanced over at Alma, who was leveling you with a look. It didn’t deter you. 

The look softened as she glanced at her children, “Y/N is right.”

The children began to explain what they’d prefer although they did admit that hot chocolate would be appreciated too. Alma still glared at you, even as the plates were cleared and breakfast was officially over. 

When it came down to the final minutes everyone was gathered in the entryway, goodbyes were said, and hugs exchanged. You tried not to let yourself get emotional, but you could feel the concern radiating off both the children and Alma. “Promise you will stay safe out there?” Millard had asked when you hugged him. 

“I promise.”

Finally, you picked up your suitcase and left, made it halfway through the yard before you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced just in time to see Alma match your stride, she smiled. “I was told that you might get lost leaving the loop by yourself.”

“The children have such little faith in me.” You sighed, with mock hurt. 

“Not unwarranted.” She teased, gently looping her arm through yours as you both left the yard.

The proximity distracted you for a moment, and you said the first thing that came to mind, “Oh I forgot to tell you that I visited Miss Avocet.” 

Alma didn’t bother to hide the wistful and affectionate smile that came across her face. “And how is she and Miss Bunting?” The yard transitioned into a dirt path as the house disappeared out of sight.

“They’re well.” You smiled, “As soon as she heard the mention of Abe, she asked how you were, and then began singing your praises. Not surprisingly you’ve always been remarkable from what Miss Avocet told me.”

Alma scoffed, but there was a pink tint to her face. “Was there anything else notable from that trip besides the two of you gossiping behind my back?” 

“No, I saw an old friend, but other than that nothing.” 

Alma seemed to process the news, glancing out towards the scenery, before asking, “Do I know this friend of yours?”

“No-well you might. Miss Starling has been visiting a few loops around here from what I’ve heard.” 

“She’s an ymbryne?” There was something in her voice that made you tread lightly, your hand smoothed over hers.

“She is.”

Birds chirped above as you crossed from the dirt path to a field, Alma’s voice was even as she spoke. “Will you return with her back to America when it comes time?”

“We’re not like that.” You said far too quickly.

Her expression caught for a moment before she said, “Y/N, I didn’t ask if you were together.”

Your pace faltered, you winced, “I thought you were asking in a roundabout way.”

Alma grinned, “I wasn’t dear, but that’s good to know.” She was still grinning, and you looked away, _she didn’t have to be so smug about it._ “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

“I won’t leave until the war is over, and even then, I’m not sure where I would go.” 

She hummed in acknowledgement, the two of you made it a few paces before she said. “Would you settle down?”

“I suppose that’s the next logical step. Create a loop, take care of my charges...where do you suppose I should create one?” All of it was hypothetical, but you didn’t yet want to let go of this small daydream where you had no other pressing concerns other than a distant future.

“Well there’s always the possibility of finding a loop you enjoy and settling there. Like Miss Bunting and Miss Avocet.” 

It occurred to you at that moment that she was talking about settling down _with someone,_ your pace faltered, “Is that something you’re interested in?” You asked, your voice too eager for your own liking. “Settling down with someone?”

Her pace never faltered, “I’d say I’m fairly settled, so if someone was to catch my eye they would have to stay here.” Her expression turned pensive, “That is assuming they were equally as enamored.”

“I don’t see how anyone couldn’t be.” Alma smiled, readjusting her arm so that it brought you a touch closer. For a startling moment of clarity, you wondered if Alma was simply lonely and you were the closest viable option at the moment. You would never want her to settle for someone simply because she felt no one else would come along, before you could catch yourself you said, “I could find someone for you if you wanted.”

She glanced at you with a certain hesitancy that hadn’t been there before, “Is this your not so subtle way of trying to marry me off?”

“Nothing like that, unless you wanted it.” You shrugged, ignored your own feelings in place of Alma being happy with someone. “I simply meant that loops present harder ways to find someone, but I could help.”

“Do you have a specific person in mind?” She didn’t sound entirely against the idea, which you took as a good sign. If painful.

“I do.” You nodded, thinking back to Beatrice, “She’s an ymbryne, American,” Alma’s mouth quirked up into a pleased smile, “-charming, attractive-” 

She smiled, “With a bit of an ego?”

You paused, tilted your head in consideration, trying to recall what Beatrice had been like as a child, “I suppose.”

Alma chuckled, “Well when do I get to meet her?” 

Your heart sunk even though you knew it was your fault, some part of you chiding _see Alma’s just lonely,_ “Miss Starling would probably love to visit if given the chance.” 

Her pace faltered, the smile dimmed, “Your friend?”

You hummed in agreement, “That’s the one.”

She kept quiet for a few moments before she simply said, “I see.” Silence descended upon the conversation. Then after a minute she said flatly, “Don’t expect me to court her.”

You grinned and nudged her good naturedly, “It doesn’t have to be anything like that, just some company while Abe and I are away. I won’t even tell her that you like hot chocolate.” Which earned an exasperated side glance towards you, but it had already become your new favorite inside joke, rather than _does she like women_ it was _does she drink hot chocolate._

“I suppose the children would appreciate a new face around here for a bit.” Then sighed almost resigned, “But it won’t be the same as having you and Abe here.” The field slowly became more of a hill, the two of you descended it to walk across the beach.

Waves lapped at the edge of the beach and you watched them rather than look at how close you were to leaving. “Is my company that enjoyable? Last time I checked I had eaten your food, slept in one of your beds, and now I’m leaving without doing anything in return.”

She smiled, “Talking with you is enough.”

You grinned, “Witty conversations have never been my strong suit.”

“Or taking a compliment apparently.”

You laughed as the two of you neared the mouth of the cave, Alma paused a few feet away, which gave you pause. “Do you plan to keep your promise and write to me?” She asked.

“Once I figure out a way to make sure it gets to you three years in the past then yes, of course.” She slowly removed her arm from yours, her nails gently trailing down your arm in a way that was unintentional, yet it left goosebumps in its wake. Reluctantly you let her arm go and wished you could keep talking for just an hour or two more.

She smoothed down the collar of your top, adjusting it barely. "I don't suppose I could convince you to stay longer?" She looked resigned, but there was that twinge of hope in her voice that made you want to agree.

Regardless of your wants things hinged on your arrival, "Abe's waiting for me."

"Right." Her voice managed to sound unaffected and would've been convincing if not for everything that had led up to it. Alma’s gaze softened, she watched your expression as if trying to decipher it, you didn’t think you were that much of an enigma. 

As you prepared to ask her what was wrong, she took a breath seeming to steel herself for something, you watched her, she leaned in. Kissed your cheek, close enough to the corner of your mouth that if you had tilted your head just slightly to the right you would’ve met her lips. But it was a quick kiss, she pulled away just as quickly and smiled. “I expect you to visit soon darling,” and gently pushed you towards the opening of the cave. 

You stumbled the first few steps, glanced up at her dazed, she watched cautiously, and you grinned finally. The anxiety eased from her expression and she smiled, you turned back to the cave, felt the pressure associated with loops, and finally walked out.

Your face burned, and you wished you had anticipated that, it hadn’t been fair to do something like that and then make you leave. But you had the ferry to catch, you huffed, began your walk to the docks with a new determination. Alma came to mind not a moment later, and a slow smile started to form, but you focused on the walk and tried not to think of Alma’s lips, or the way her eyes had lit up.

Regardless of what had transpired you would introduce her to Beatrice, because Alma deserved company. It would also probably be beneficial to Beatrice considering her mission to talk with ymbrynes affected by the war.

The ferry ride simply filled you with regret, you could have stayed longer. Technically there was the evening ferry ride that you could have taken, you could have spent the rest of the day with the children and Alma. But it felt like delaying the inevitable, because you would have to leave eventually.

Your last loop was Plymouth, there was an entrance to a loop somewhere around The Royal Citadel, which was a large and ancient fortress from what Abe had told you. Abe had used it to travel to France safely and you would too. From there you would board a boat, arrive in France and visit Miss Sandgrouse’s loop which was located in some smaller town not quite near the coast, but close enough. Abe would be waiting and then you could begin the mission.

Simple in theory, but undoubtedly would present a problem or two along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optional: tell me something that made you happy today


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments, they mean the world to me!

It took a good part of the day to reach Plymouth and even longer to find the loop entrance, after rounding the fortress for the third time you caught sight of a nondescript blue door. It looked like it was used for maintenance workers, but you felt a pull towards it nonetheless.

You prayed it would lead to the loop, and walked quickly over to the door, you glanced around to double check that no one was watching you. Thankfully the ivy that covered the walls around you shielded you from any wandering eyes. 

With a quick tug the door opened, and you entered the pressure associated with loops washed over you. The loop had been created sometime around the early nineteenth-century, and if you were completely honest you weren’t sure who maintained the loop though you were certain if you searched around long enough you could find the ymbryne. 

Outside of the fortress, the sun was setting, and most people were returning home for the night. You took your suitcase and hid it behind a few bushes that were close to the walls, then with a last cautious glance around you shifted into a bird. 

Flew to the docks where Abe had said there would be a boat leaving to Roscoff in the morning. You checked the time there, then flew back to where your suitcase was, it was a little less than ten hours till the ferry would leave. Deciding that there was little else to do, you fell asleep in a tree near your suitcase. Still in bird form of course.

\-------------

You woke sometime right around dawn and for a startling moment forgot why you were in a tree until you slowly caught your wits. Then after some reluctance, you dropped out of the tree and shifted back to human form, your suitcase remained where you had left it.

After a bit of snooping you found a coat that would at least semi-adequately hide your out of place clothes and boarded the ship. The boat ride would take a barely less than a day, while it took much longer than if you had attempted a trip in your time, you also preferred not to be killed by a U-boat in the first hour or two into the journey.

While you knew it would take a day, it also didn’t make it any more bearable to deal with while you waited. Time passed unbearably slowly, and you could do nothing except go over everything so far that had transpired.

You would need to write a letter to Miss Starling explaining the loop, and you would need to write a letter to Alma, you grabbed a pen and found some paper and began drafting the letter.

_Beatrice,_

_I hope you’re well, and pray you’re still visiting Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting’s loop. If you’re still visiting other loops I’d recommend Miss Peregrine’s, I won’t say more than I need to on the subject, but her loop is a very practical reminder to those back in the states who believe it won’t affect our way of life. I’ve already asked her if it would be okay to invite you and she agreed. Miss Avocet would be more than willing to visit the loop as well, I’m certain._

_Best of luck,_

_Y/N_

It was a decent letter, Miss Avocet could tell her the location, Alma could have company and if Beatrice and Alma hit it off then your work would be done. You considered crossing out Beatrice, and replacing it with the formal Miss Starling, but thought better of it. As you folded the letter and placed it inside your coat pocket you realized that you were setting yourself up for failure. 

More than likely they would hit it off and you would have no one but yourself to blame. The rest of the boat ride you spent weighing your own selfish wants over the possibility that Alma could be happy. With each passing thought and each step, the letter felt heavier and heavier in your pocket. 

By the time you arrived at Miss Sandgrouse’s loop you felt ready to mail the damn thing and get it over with. 

You made it to her doorstep, only to be met with a few pleasantries before Miss Sandgrouse said far too casually, “Abraham left for Miss Lapwing’s loop two days ago. I was under the impression, you already knew.”

_Of course he did, of fucking course he already was throwing the plan out._ With far too much effort you managed to force a polite smile and say just as casually, “Where’s the loop?”

\--------------

You calmly walked into the bookshop, not to act suspicious you browsed the books. Finally, politely leaving, as soon as you opened the door again the pressure associated with loops came. The door closed behind you and the present became reality, it took some adjusting to remember that you had left a loop and entered another, Miss Lapwing’s loop was barely a week old from what Miss Sandgrouse told you. You pretended to be unbothered as if you hadn’t just appeared out of thin air and stepped onto the sidewalk. 

After wandering around a few streets, you found the house, and stopped. The street looked just as Horace’s dream predicted rows of houses and shops, and there in between two other shops sat the house. Alma made you promise to leave if you saw it, but all you could do was sigh walking towards the house regardless.

Abe could be dead for all you knew, what if the wight had already raided this loop? You glowered at the front door; this reckless stupidity would kill him if you didn’t first. 

There was a disgruntled muttering a few steps from the door and you turned to see an older heavier set man striding over with a furious expression. It was _the_ man from Horace’s prediction, the one who had furiously yelled at the door until you answered. He stopped and your glower remained, he asked in French, “Did they steal from you too?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but if you’ve come to yell at them. I assure you; the position is taken.” He paused; your anger kept the facade up well. 

There was something to be said for ymbryne peculiar traits, namely the perfected scowl of a mother. It worked on anyone given the right circumstances, or the right amount of emotion. You had been on the other end of it enough to know the effects, and this man didn’t look the type to be above it. 

His expression finally shifted into something more subdued, “Right, well I have unfinished business, but I suppose it can wait a day.”

You didn’t dignify his answer with a response, simply gave a curt nod, not letting the glare lessen as you faced the door again. The man left, without another word, you knocked. 

Abe opened the door glaring, recognition passed over almost instantly and he grinned. “You’re-”

“-A fucking fool to think that I wouldn’t be pissed at you for leaving two days before we agreed.” You hissed, “You could have been dead you could’ve been kidnapped, what the fu-”

“Language.” He murmured.

You glared at him, ready to argue again with stronger language. When a boy around five bounded up right next to Abe’s leg and said, “You’re not Monsieur Pomeroy.”

With a final glare at Abe to let him know this wasn’t over, your expression shifted, and you said far more kindly, “No, I’m here to help Abe.”

“I’ll need to explain everything to Y/N, though. Will you go help Miss Lapwing with lunch?” Abe asked.

The boy nodded, spared a last glance at you before disappearing back into the house. Abe turned to you, “Just let me explain.”

“It better be good.”

He opened the door and let you in, leading you through the house to a bedroom, presumably the one he had been using judging by his suitcase on the floor. “They believe there’s a wight following them, which is why the loop was created. Miss Sandgrouse told me they needed help transporting the children somewhere safer.” Abe glanced at you, “I’m not stupid.”

It made the ball anxiety unfurl in your chest, you sighed, and your expression finally cracked gentle and worried at once. Carefully you set the suitcase down on the floor, “You’re not _entirely_ stupid.” Then hugged him, he hugged back, you mumbled against his shoulder. “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry, but they needed help.”

You parted, “Alma and the children say hi.”

He chuckled, “Was it a good visit?” 

_Well it was the only loop I was kissed in, of course then she pushed me into the cave,_ you held your tongue smiling foolishly at the memory. “It was my favorite of any of the loops, though I only stayed for a day.”

Abe caught the smile, and asked, “Has Miss Peregrine proposed as of yet?”

You pushed him none too gently, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I am too. I’ve already sorta set her up with a different ymbryne.”

A look of confusion crossed his face, but then there was a knock on the bedroom door. He turned to face it, “Come in.”

A woman only a year or two older than you walked in, you guessed this was Miss Lapwing, “I apologize for the interruption, but it’s almost time.”

Abe nodded, turned back to you, “I promise I’ll explain everything when I’m back.” Gave you a parting half squeeze, then pulled his coat on and disappeared down the stairs. 

“Wait!” You followed behind, “I need to tell you about Horace’s dream.”

Abe was already near the front door, crouched and focused as he fixed the collar of the five-year old boy’s jacket, “It has to wait, there’s a very small opening of time when I can transport the children without raising suspicion.”

You glanced between the two, and the surrounding children. Abe left with a small nod towards you, and then you were left standing in the house you had promised Alma to never enter.

Miss Lapwing cleared her throat, her children dispersed slowly and begrudgingly. She focused on you, “I assume you’re Y/N.”

Slowly coming back to the present, you nodded, “I am.” Then turned to focus on her, “Do you mind explaining all of this?”

———-

“You have to understand, only six months has passed since I started searching for the right day.” She offered a plate of finger sandwiches which you politely declined. “I simply didn’t want the children to have the war hanging over their head as a constant reminder, and yet here we are.”

“I promise it will all work out.” You said, relaxing into the kitchen chair.

She sighed before beginning, “Two weeks ago, a few of the children saw a man with white irises walking a few blocks away from our house, we of course left. After that the children and I moved to this location, but I suspect he’s close.”

You thought back to Horace’s dream, piece by piece it was starting to make sense. “And the irritating man that arrived when I did?”

“Oh, Monsieur Pomeroy.” She took a seat at the dining table, “A day before the loop was created, Théodore, one of my charges stole some food from his shop. At the time Théodore was under the impression that the loop would be created in the hour...but other things came to attention and it wasn't safe to do so.” There was a hesitancy to the admittance as if you would disagree with stealing, she was quick to add, “The previous days he refused to sell to us and-”

“I understand.”

She stopped, visibly relaxed.

All you could do was offer an understanding smile. Not that you ever wanted someone else to experience that sickening hunger or desperation, but you understood it better than you would like. “And the small opening for Abe?”

“There’s a man on the corner of the street who if he sees any young man not in a uniform, he will try to tell the Gestapo.” She checked her pocket watch, “Abraham has to make it back before dark or he’ll get stopped.”

“Where is he taking them?” 

“The closest loop is Miss Sandgrouse’s, it’s roughly two hours away by train adding the time he’ll take to reassure the children, and the time it takes to get from the train station to the house roughly around…”

“Four hours and fifty minutes to get there.” You finished, which meant Abe would return just before dusk. Then the cycle would repeat itself again and again until the last children had left. “How many charges do you have?”

“Six that still need to be transported.” She answered with a weary sigh, eyes focused on the table yet distant.

A girl around twelve walked in, “Miss Lapwing, Marie is awake.” The headmistress returned to the present abruptly and stood. She patted the child’s shoulder with a soft ‘thank you Alexia,’ murmured, and then left the room.

Which left you time to be roped into playing games with the children, most of the choices were board games. They lost interest quickly in every game and you could tell they had been cooped up in the house for far longer than they were used to. Eventually they found other things to occupy themselves with and you were left alone yet again.

Dinner approached, you helped, dinner passed, you saved a plate for Abe. As the sun began to dip into the horizon, there was a knock at the door. Nerves threatened to build, but you opened the door to Abe who looked as exhausted as before. 

He settled in with dinner, and recounted transporting the kid, nothing new or worrying happened. Once everyone was sure that things were set to continue tomorrow, you were left alone with Abe. Who sat across from you at the kitchen table. You started, “Horace’s dream showed this house, with that man, and a wight.”

He stopped midchew, “A wight.” He said, muffled and semi-unintelligible. “And you didn’t lead with that?”

“I tried to, but you took off before I could.” Your fingers drummed against the table, watched Abe from across the table.

“You still haven’t explained what all happened when I left.” He finally said, pushing away his now empty plate. “Nothing notable happened when I left, but I doubt you can say the same.”

“The dream was the only eventful thing, the wight was taking a smoke across the street and staring directly at this house. It was nighttime.”

There was a slow anxiety building in the way Abe glanced towards the front of the house, as if he could see through walls and onto the street. “How did my family take it?”

“They were worried, but they knew there was only so much they could do.” 

Silence descended upon the two of you until all that was noticeable was the sound of children upstairs prepping for bed, giggles and footsteps, and the weight of what was at stake felt suffocating. You were both more than aware that there was only so much the two of you could do if it fell apart.

When enough time had passed that the house was quiet save for Miss Lapwing returning a few things back to their proper place, you stood from the table. Abe still sat silently, you picked up his empty plate and rinsed it off, “You said you found someone for Miss Peregrine.” Abe murmured.

You turned to look at him, his gaze was distant and still on the table, but with your movement it shifted. He stared back at you unyielding and curious, far too much like Alma. “She’s not getting married,” you said in a gentle tease, trying to ease your own feelings as much as Abe’s, “but arguably I can’t see how they wouldn’t hit it off.”

He rolled his jaw, once, twice, “She cares for you.” His gaze traveled around the room as he tried to process it, “She wouldn’t say yes to it.”

“She seemed interested in the idea at first, then against it for a moment, and then...”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, she said she wouldn’t mind the company.” You shrugged, placed the plate in the sink.

The two of you traded off the role of authority easily, one would do something foolish and the other would step into act as the older sibling. Abe glared at you, equal parts warning and disappointment, which meant you had fucked up. “You’re being stupid.”

“I’m being reasonable, and rational, and all the logical things, thank you very much.” You said with an air of finality and turned back to the sink.

Of course, Abe didn’t drop the subject so easily. “When? The part where you try to set up the person you like with someone else, or the part where you try to justify it because you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”

Regrettably Abe was sometimes too competent and too observant, but that didn’t stop you. “The part where we don’t get close to people because we don’t want to hurt them.” You said softer, with the kind of sadness that snuck into your voice without willing it.

Abe glanced down at the floorboards, eyebrows pinched together, mouth pursed. He would try to divert the conversation somehow or find some loophole, but you continued. “If aging wasn’t a problem, would you still have broken it off with Emma before leaving?” It wasn’t accusational, a simple question that said you knew the answer.

“Just because I understand it doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He said finally, glanced up at you with a pained expression. 

It made you smile, knowing the roles had already reversed. You dried your hands on a dishtowel, “No, but the least you can do is respect my decision.” Then leaned against the counter, watching Abe patiently. “Besides I was half expecting you to tell me Alma liked me far too much for someone else to come between us.” It was said jokingly, in an attempt to ease the tension and sadness of the discussion.

Abe snorted, rolled his eyes as he said, “Of course, there’s that too.”

Eventually the two of you turned in, there was an extra bed moved into Abe’s room, and while you couldn’t string up your blanket wall, you wouldn’t lie that you found comfort to see Abe across the room. Then he rolled over and began snoring, and you considered smothering him in his sleep.

\-------------

Morning came too quickly, you woke already exhausted, trying to will your body back to sleep. Unfortunately, your body refused, and you were forced to get up, Abe was still peacefully asleep and snoring a little too loudly. 

There was a routine that you learned and adapted to quickly, with the children getting ready for the day and meeting downstairs for breakfast. You saved Abe a plate, listened to the conversations, and when the meal was finished. Carefully you broached the subject of Horace’s prediction with Miss Lapwing. 

Which was met with a better reaction than you expected, she looked pensive before asking if there was anything you knew that would prevent it. You didn’t, and she simply nodded, and said calmly. “Then I suppose we should pick up the pace.”

\------------

It took shorter than expected to convince Abe, you guessed Horace’s dream and the continuous worry for the children were wearing on him more than you expected. Despite that it still took a solid ten minutes of convincing, and by the end of it he agreed that you would take the first train the next morning with one of the children if everything today went to plan. Followed immediately by him listing off what to look out for throughout the day. Then not long after he left for the day.

You went through the house as he left, noting one child stationed near the front of the house, and another near the back, both boredly staring out the windows. They would switch out with the other children, knowing that if they saw anyone approaching besides Monsieur Pomeroy, they would yell for Miss Lapwing. 

With nothing else to do you insisted at least taking a shift over for the children, managing one shift in the front for a bit, before taking over the one in the rear. The children understandably were starting to get antsy, there were more than a few dramatic sighs you overheard, but you couldn’t blame them entirely. 

Not with the threat that hung over everyone’s heads, the war raging on outside, and the anxiety that never seemed to leave, this loop was anything but idyllic. Not that you would ever say it outloud, but this was some form of hell, the anticipation of pain, blood, and absolute destruction. 

As you were relieved from your shift watching the back window, you heard what sounded like a baby. Curious you followed the sound to the sitting room where Miss Lapwing sat with a child who couldn’t have been more than a year old, humming quietly to them while they babbled on.

You paused in the doorway, “I suppose you were saving the best introduction for last?” Tilted your head to smile at the baby who stared at you, you offered a tiny wave and grinned when the baby showed a toothless smile.

Miss Lapwing simply smiled, “This is Marie,” shifted the little girl to face her and grinned at the baby. “She’s been a handful.”

“The cutest ones always are,” you teased, moved to take a seat near them, “Do you already know her peculiarity?” When they were that young it was harder to tell, unless they had an obvious physical feature, but you didn’t see a back mouth, or wings, and well...you could see Marie so you safely assumed it wasn’t invisibility.

Miss Lapwing playfully scrunched her nose at the child, which earned a loud giggle, turned to you a moment later and said. “When she screams it emits a sound that can shatter eardrums and glass in at least a two-kilometer radius.” She said it so casually, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“I suppose it’s a good thing she’s in such a good mood.”

“Quite.” She focused back on Marie with a gentle smile, “I’ve been able to keep her preoccupied and happy for the past week, but it's inevitable that something will set her off.”

“You’re worried that she’ll attract the wight,” it occurred to you slowly that all of the younger children had been transported first, and yet Marie was still here. “It’s why you haven’t let Abe take her yet,” you said knowingly, before she could answer there was a sudden pounding at the door, Marie’s face scrunched already gearing up for a wail and you weren’t so keen on a demonstration. 

You were quick to reach the door, pulled it open and like clockwork Mr. Pomeroy was standing there, glaring furiously at you. Without a second thought you stepped outside the door and shut it behind you soundly, “I was told one of my charges stole from you.”

“So the little bastard confessed?” He spit, his face already turning red by sheer anger.

“He’s being adequately punished, and I’d like to pay for double the cost of what he stole.” You gestured to the street, “I’ll come with you to the shop and happily pay.”

Like yesterday it caught him off guard just enough to break his focus, finally he crossed his arms, “I suppose that’ll be sufficient, but he’s banned and if I ever see him in my store again-”

“I assure you that won’t be a problem.” You glanced at the window to catch sight of two of the children watching you concerned as their breaths fogged up the glass, you gave them a reassuring smile, before following Mr. Pomeroy down the street and around the corner.

It was a short trip but felt impossibly long having to deal with his snide comments, most of which you had to grin and bear. Finally, you reached the shop, you closed the door and locked it behind you, though he didn’t seem to notice since he already launched into a tirade about expenses. 

He was writing out a list and you crouched to fix your boot lace, picked up the knife out of its holster and stabbed him, cut twice and only to put the man out of his misery. He fell to the floor and not a minute later was laying there lifeless, you wiped the blade across his shirt to clean it, and then moved towards the door. 

He would be fine since this was a loop, you knew he’d appear the next morning again angry and ranting, and if you had to do this again you would. It was the messier and crueler than you preferred, but it kept the loops inhabitants safe and that was your only concern.

You made it back to the house without any problems, going about the rest of the day as if this was normal, like clockwork Abe returned home just before evening. Things were actually going according to plan, and you let yourself relax for the evening, knowing the morning would bring more pain and worry.

\------------

Morning came, you woke up a little before dawn, and got ready for the day. Your revolver was loaded and promptly holstered, same went for the dagger, it set you at ease to have them with you. 

Breakfast was fast approaching, and you threw a pillow at Abe as his third and final reminder to get up. He rolled over and murmured something about your anger issues, but not a minute later he sighed and begrudgingly got out of bed. The two of you joined the dining table, and it passed as it had since you arrived. 

Plates were cleared eventually, and it came time for you to leave with Alexia, the next youngest charge besides Marie. You let Miss Lapwing have time with her, while you held her suitcase, waiting patiently as they said goodbyes.

A minute or two later Alexia took your hand, “I’m ready.” You glanced up to Miss Lapwing, pretended not to the pain in her expression, and offered her a reassuring nod. Then opened the front door. 

You walked to the train station not too far away, Alexia was quiet for most of the walk, she watched everything and everyone somewhere between anxious and curious. It wasn’t long before you had your tickets and managed to find window seats on the train. 

The train car was empty and quiet save for the two of you, and you played little games to pass the time, or made up stories until you couldn’t think of anymore. Finally, she turned to you and whispered conspiratorially, “What did you do to Monsieur Pomeroy yesterday?”

It caught you off guard, you glanced around the already empty train car to ensure you were alone, “What I had to.”

She watched you closely, before finally asking, “Did you kill him?”

Children were far better at catching onto the truth, and you weren’t willing to lie, “I did what I had to, and because I know he wasn’t truly hurt since he’s in the loop.”

She watched you, not unkindly, or distrusting. “Have you ever killed someone outside of a loop?”

Alexia had seemed to catch onto a vein of questions that you weren’t ready to answer. Still you tried to find an articulate answer that didn’t make her feel bad for her curiosity but meant you didn’t have to lie.

She seemed to take your silence as an answer, “I knew it.” Apparently you must have looked worried, because then she patted your hand reassuringly, and said in her best comforting voice, “Miss Lapwing told us that you and Abraham were spies, I told Max that meant you had probably killed people.”

You had, more often than you liked to think about, but said softly, “It’s not something done lightly.” Then focused on her, “Promise me that it stays a secret.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jokingly you said, as the train pulled into its first stop, “Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” She giggled.

\---------------------

Eventually you did make it to Miss Sandgrouse’s loop, Alexia had fallen asleep sometime in the last half hour of the train ride. Gently you stirred her awake when the train pulled into your station, it wasn’t a far walk to the loop entrance, or a far walk to the house. 

Miss Sandgrouse was surprised by the arrival for a moment, before adjusting quickly. It helped that more than half of Miss Lapwing’s charges were here, Alexia gave you a parting hug, before running off to play with her family. 

You pulled Miss Sandgrouse to the side, “Abe will be still coming soon, we only have a few more children left. Is there anything you need?”

“Nothing at the moment, the only thing we will need is more beds, but I doubt there’s any place for them.” She sighed, watched fondly as a few of the children bounded down the stairs being chased by another. “The children have seemed to look at this like a sleepover so none of them have complained as of yet about sharing beds.”

You nodded, murmured a goodbye, and left for the next train. The train car on the way back was half-full, which was ideal considering you rather not be left alone to your thoughts. Nothing interesting happened for the next hour, then you pulled into the halfway stop, you watched people out of the window. 

People went about their daily lives, moving from one train to the next, or hugging loved ones, or stepping on as if this was their usual trip. It was relaxing to see some semblance of normal, your focus jumping from person to person, a woman walking with her toddler on her hip, a teenager who just picked a man’s pocket, a man in a suit with curiously pale eyes. You froze.

Stared at him, and noted that his eyes were white, he lit a cigarette and loitered, from the bottom part of his face alone you knew it was the wight from Horace’s dream. The train pulled forward suddenly and you suppressed a yelp, you glanced back at where you had seen the man, but he was no longer standing there. 

The rest of the train ride was spent agonizingly slowly, knowing that the wight was mostly likely waiting for Abe at that station, and if he followed Abe to Miss Sandgrouse’s loop it would be a bloodbath, same if he followed them to Miss Lapwing’s loop.

Abe’s train would leave the moment yours would arrive, and you knew it would be a close call, if you caught him at all. 

Familiar scenery started to pass as you neared the train station, you sat straighter in your seat, the train barely began to slow as you jumped out of your seat and ran towards the space between the cars. There was a faint mademoiselle yelled out to you but you didn’t stop for anything, the shift to bird form was odd after not utilizing it for so long.

It however was a quick adjustment before you were flying and glancing for the right train, you found it easily, but then came the hard part. Landing.

The landing could have been more graceful, but all in all it served its purpose, you wiped the dust off your leg and winced at the bruise you knew would be forming on your shoulder but pushed ahead. 

You walked through each train car, looking for Abe and Max, though walked might not have been the right word considering you were clearing the train cars in four steps consistently. Finally, you caught sight of Abe’s slicked back hair, and Max’s hat that was too big for his head. With no introduction you took the seat across from them and said, “There’s a wight at the next train station.”

The two of them stared at you for a moment trying to process what you said, before Abe glanced around, leaned forward. “What do they look like?”

“Older white man, severe face, probably late fifties, bald, he smokes.” You forced yourself to relax a bit, “It looks like he was waiting for someone or something.”

“The same one from Horace’s dream?” Abe asked, quietly. You nodded. Max sat there in the seat next to Abe, and looked devastated, you turned your focus to him. He looked to be around thirteen, you always had a knack for placing children’s ages with startling accuracy.

“I promise, you are going to be perfectly safe, Abe will make sure of it.” You said gently, Abe focused back on Max and nodded, though distantly preoccupied. It eased some of the worry, which was as much as you could hope for. You stood, “I have to go, but stay safe you two.” Ruffled Abe’s hair simply to mess with him, he scowled and tried to slick it back though it wasn’t working.

“You’re not staying?” Max finally asked, anxiety spiking again.

You paused, smiled softly, “Three peculiars will attract more attention than two, besides I have to be back to tell your headmistress.” Then moved to tip his hat back just enough so that you could properly see his face, “Keep an eye on Abe for me, won’t you?” He nodded with the determination that only a child could show, you smiled and left.

\-------------------

Théodore opened the door for you as you walked up to the house, you thanked him and followed the thank you with, “Do you know where your headmistress is?” He pointed towards the kitchen and you thanked him again.

Miss Lapwing was going about her normal routine, when you took a seat at the kitchen table, “Alexia was delivered to Miss Sandgrouse, the rest of your charges there are doing fine. On my way back I caught sight of the wight.”

Which was admittedly a lot to process for two sentences, but she did after a minute. She followed it by more questions which you answered as best as you could. When all was said and done, the two of you did your best to accept the fact that you could do nothing to change it at the moment, which is to say, you both kept busy and ignored the problem.

\--------------------

Abe didn’t return as the sun dipped below the horizon, his dinner plate sat there cold and untouched, while you paced the foyer. Miss Lapwing had already sent her charges to bed and was attempting to put Marie to sleep as you continued to pace. 

Your mind had jumped to every possible worst-case scenario and as more time passed, the scenarios became even more outlandish, but no less terrifying. There was a quiet knock at the back door of the house, you pulled out your gun and moved towards it, finally opening it.

Abe was out of breath and a little scraped up but alive, nonetheless. You hugged him tightly, “I thought the worst.”

He hugged back, before slowly moving to take a seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t see the wight at the train station when we first arrived. I dropped Max off at Miss Sandgrouse’s loop, and then made the trip back, and when I got on, I saw the wight on the train with me.” He moved to prop his leg up on another chair, wincing at the motion. “I jumped off the train and hitch hiked back.”

You moved to look over his leg, “How is it?”

“My ankle hurts, but I can move it.”

You pulled up his pant leg, to see his ankle was still thankfully functional, but looked a bit bruised. “You might’ve sprained it.” Then glanced up at him as the realization finally struck, “Tell me you didn’t jump off a moving train.”

He swallowed, “I didn’t jump off a very fast-moving train.” His voice ending in a higher pitch than it started, as if asking a question.

“You’re so stupid.”

“But I’m alive.” He supplied, pulling down his pant leg again with an air of finality.

He was. Which meant you were left with three charges to transport and Miss Lapwing, the two oldest charges would be the easiest. The only one you were truly worried about moving was Marie, especially now that you knew the wight was near.

Miss Lapwing eventually came down after Marie was asleep, and noted Abe’s arrival, he explained what happened again, before you broached the subject weighing on your mind. The two were already sitting at the kitchen table, and you took the third chair, “Would it be reasonable to simply take the rest of the children and make a dash to Miss Sandgrouse’s loop?” You asked finally.

Abe considered it for a moment before replying, “It’ll be easier to transport three kids rather than twelve.” He turned his focus to Miss Lapwing who looked to be in deep contemplation.

After some deliberation she said, “And if anyone tries to stop us?”

Abe and you shared a look, before replying in unison. “We shoot them.” Then because you hoped it would ease her mind some, “I’ll stay awake tonight and keep a lookout, just to make sure we’re safe, and tomorrow you can take your charges and leave. I can handle Mr. Pomeroy, I’ll reset the loop, whatever you need done.”

Slowly she nodded, glancing between the two of you, “You’re sure this is for the best?”

“Certain.” Abe replied.

Not long after, they turned in and you pulled up a chair to the window to watch the street. And then the waiting began. And continued. Boredom snuck in not long after, and your body protested at staying awake for so long, but you persisted.

Eventually as the boredom started to outweigh the exhaustion you began to draft a letter to Alma, while periodically glancing up towards the window just to make sure you were alone. Not that you saw anyone, save for perhaps once or twice you would catch sight of three German patrol officers walking down the streets.

_Dear Alma,_

_I suppose I owe you a letter. So here it is as promised, and I pray that since I’m keeping this promise, you’ll forgive me for breaking another. For the past few days, I’ve been assisting Abe in the house, yes ‘that’ house. Before you hate me, we’ve been helping a woman and her children to escape before they can be caught, you’d understand. We’re alive, but I’m already wishing I had said yes to staying for a bit longer. I suppose there’s always next time._

You stopped there, tried to think of a way to sign it off. Yours truly? Too romantic for something so new. Sincerely? She’s not your coworker on a business trip. After a few minutes you gave up and figured it would come to you eventually, and spent the night passing the time and watching the street until you heard footsteps above, and knew it was morning. With that comforting knowledge you fell asleep, sometime later Abe stirred you awake. 

He was clean shaven again, already had his white button up on, as he kneeled next to you. You stirred and glared at him for waking you up, he offered a gentle, but mocking smile. “We’re getting ready to leave soon.” He murmured. “They’re finishing packing, and then we’ll take off. Will you be okay?”

You stretched, suppressed a yawn and replied. “Fine. I’ll reset the loop fifteen minutes after Monsieur Pomeroy comes knocking.” Then you glanced around the room, guessing it was nearing noon, “Are you going to be okay?”

He stood, attempted a smile that was meant to be carefree, but was nowhere near convincing, “I’ll be fine, and back in time for dinner.”

Your voice hid the hesitancy and anxiety far better than Abe’s when you asked, “Promise?”

“Of course.” He crossed his heart teasingly, which earned him a kick in the shin. He winced and you laughed as he moved out of kicking distance. “Did anything happen last night?”

You shook your head, “No, thankfully it was as boring as expected.” Slowly you shifted to sit up and realized you had fallen asleep crooked and there was a crick in your neck. Miss Lapwing and her charges, Lise and Théodore, walked down the stairs while you tried to work out the crick. Miss Lapwing carried Marie who was happily chewing on her tiny fist. 

The letters remained on the table next to you and quickly you recalled what you had left unfinished last night, “Abe what loop do we plan to visit after this one?”

He seemed surprised at the question for a moment before answering, “Uh, Miss Heron, I believe?”

“The one in 1807 or the one in 1923?” Miss Lapwing asked, shifting the baby in her arms. 

“Should be the one in 1807.” You muttered, deciding there wasn’t enough time to question the end of Alma’s letter and put simply, _yours, Y/N._ Stuffed the letter into an envelope, and wrote on the front, _To: Miss Peregrine 1940, Send reply to: Miss Heron 1807._

Finally, you glanced up and passed Alma’s letter and Beatrice’s letter to her, “Will you pass these along for me?”

“Of course.”

They set their suitcases near the door, finally you hugged Abe, then Miss Lapwing and her charges, because they could all use at least some comfort before this. Watched as they picked up the suitcases and left, watched as they disappeared down the street and around the corner. 

Your body ached for sleep, and you found yourself sitting back in the armchair, eyes already trying to guillotine shut. Inevitably you fell asleep.

\-------------

There was a furious pounding against the door which startled you awake, and you stood on reflex, the yelling wasn’t intelligible till you realized where you were. In less than three strides you had made it from the armchair to the front door, in one swift motion you swung the door open and glared at Mr. Pomeroy. 

It surprised him enough that he jumped back for a moment before he realized that he was still furious. “Where are they?” He asked.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, but if you don’t get off my doorstep, I’ll-”

He stepped back; you knew his anger was simply rearing up again for another outburst. “Your doorstep?! I want to talk to the fucking thief who stole my-”

You pulled out your gun, calmly from its holster and stared at the man. “Do you know who my spouse is, sir?”

His face went white as a sheet, it was finally settling into his mind that he might have the wrong house. “I-I’m sorry, I must have the wrong house.”

You offered a humorless smile, “You certainly do. Good luck with your thief, but if you step near me again, I will not hesitate to send the gestapo after you.” Then shut the door promptly in his face and locked it behind you.

There was at least one upside to being anonymous, and that was that you could lie your ass off. With that out of the way, you went to make yourself lunch, ate a sandwich and reset the loop. With no one else and nothing to do it was lonely for the next few hours, you paced, and went through the house, and as the hours ticked by and the sun dipped just below the horizon you realized something. 

It occurred to you that Horace’s dream had come to pass, that you had opened the door to glare at Mr. Pomeroy, and that there was a large possibility that tonight the wight would track you and Abe down to this house. 

Eerily calm you went upstairs and packed Abe and your suitcases, set them next to the front door and went to make dinner. Made some pasta and waited as the sky got darker, and your anxiety increased. 

Finally, there was a knock on the door, you gripped your gun, but opened the door regardless, Abe sighed out of breath and closed the door behind him. Locked it and noticed the suitcases. “What happened?”

“Horace’s dream came to pass, I opened the door for Mr. Pomeroy, exactly as I did in the dream, so eat your dinner and then we’re leaving. We can find a hotel for the night, or something.” To Abe’s credit, he did as he was told, never questioned it as he shoveled food into his mouth, or when you both stepped out into the night. 

You made it a few streets over near the bookshop before finding a decent place for the night, Abe recalled it was abandoned because he had to hide from a patrolling officer days ago when he was still learning the loop’s schedule. 

The house itself was decent, even the front door lock took some work before you managed to pick it, of course that could just be accounted for rust, but you couldn’t complain. Inside smelled of stale air and dust, it was pitch black and you flicked on your lighter. Slowly you went through the house using the little amount of light from your lighter to see. Eventually you found a bedroom with two beds that looked like they belonged to children, based off the blankets and toys still left on the floor. 

The beds themselves looked untouched, you pulled off the covers and would admit it beat sleeping in a tree any night. It didn’t take long for you to settle into bed, or for Abe to fall asleep in the adjacent bed, every so often throughout the night you would hear a creak from the house settling, but regardless both you and Abe would wake up to watch the door and wait, before deciding it was inconsequential. It was uneasy sleep but sleep regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!


End file.
